The help only he can offer...

Cypress Pointe, Florida, is a long way from LA, where pop singer Cassie Branford needs a hit to prove she’s not a two-album wonder. But her case of writer’s block could be over when the struggling songwriter meets Luke Hastings at a family wedding.

The legendary musician walked away from success at the height of his career. Yet Luke is already inspiring Cassie with his dedication to building a permanent community outreach center for troubled teens. Volunteering to help bring music into these kids’ lives is also bringing her and Luke closer. Maybe they’re not as different as he thinks...

Her steady gaze held his.

Luke’s heart pounded. This close, he could see the different shades of green mocking his words. Cassie knew, maybe even better than he did.

“Talent like yours doesn’t just go away.”

“Maybe it should.”

The words hung between them. Time stilled as his blood raced. How had she focused on the fact that while he said he wouldn’t write again, the ability had never switched off? His brain still formed tempos and lyrics, even though he pushed them away every time they surfaced. For two years he’d lived without admitting the truth to himself. And now, by encouraging Cassie to deal with her fears, he was forced to confront his own.

With so little space between them, he looked down at her lips. What would she do if he crossed the line? Kissed her as a way of changing the subject?

Find out, his inner voice taunted.

Dear Reader,

Welcome back to Cypress Pointe, the sleepy Florida town where love and family go hand in hand with bright sunny days and warm tropical nights. The wedding professionals are busy once again, this time performing music in The Wedding March, the fifth installment in The Business of Weddings series.

Let’s face it, you can’t have a wedding reception without music and dancing. Who wants to miss rocking out to “Y.M.C.A.”? Or jumping into that line dance you can’t keep time to? I can already see you smiling. It takes talented musicians to keep guests on the dance floor. Cassie Branford and Luke Hastings fit the bill.

Suffering from writer’s block, pop star Cassie doesn’t know where to turn for inspiration, until she meets legendary songwriter Luke Hastings performing at her father’s wedding reception. Could he be the answer to her prayers?

Luke left the music industry and threw his life into teaching and starting a program for at-risk teens. He thought he had his life under control, until Cassie captured his heart. Can she convince him to jump-start her muse when he’s vowed never to write music again?

Thanks for visiting Cypress Pointe. You’ll meet new family members and friends, as well as catch up with previous characters from The Business of Weddings series.

Tara

The Wedding March

Tara Randel

www.millsandboon.co.uk

TARA RANDEL is an award-winning, USA TODAY bestselling author of eleven novels. Family values, a bit of mystery and, of course, love and romance are her favorite themes, because she believes love is the greatest gift of all. Tara lives on the West Coast of Florida, where gorgeous sunsets and beautiful weather inspire the creation of heartwarming stories. This is her fifth book for Harlequin Heartwarming. Visit Tara at www.tararandel.com. Like her on Facebook at Tara Randel Books.

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Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

THE WEDDING GUESTS standing outside the whitewashed church under a clear, blue Florida sky tossed birdseed on the happy couple as the bride and groom made their way down the sidewalk to the waiting limousine.

“I can’t believe I agreed to come to this shindig,” Cassie Branford muttered as she brushed the unflattering brown kernels from her new dress.

“It’s not a shindig. It’s a wedding.”

Cassie cast her younger sister, Lauren, a dubious glance. “A wedding I’d rather not attend.”

“Dad really wanted you here.”

“And therein lies the problem.”

Minutes later a dozen white doves were released in honor of the celebration. Cassie barely controlled an eye roll. For her father, the more pretentious the better. This event filled the bill.

“Well, at least the birds get to eat.” Cassie chuckled at her own humor as she viewed the ground covered with seed.

Lauren merely shook her head, obviously not amused, and walked ahead of her to the car.

The ceremony had been celebrated at the Methodist church off Main Street. Very elegant, very subdued. You’d think the couple were getting hitched for the first time instead of second marriages for both. Still, Angelica wanted a production and Cassie’s father indulged her. It was easy to do when his new wife’s family money covered the bill.

“The doves were a nice touch,” Lauren said minutes later, as she navigated the charming streets of Cypress Pointe en route to the reception.

“Nice? How about unnecessary?”

“When did you become such a downer?”

“I don’t know. When I was commanded, not asked, to come to the wedding?”

“Cassie, we haven’t seen you in a while.”

“True, but at least I talk to you and Mom regularly. Dad? Never. So his summons kind of turned me off.”

Lauren pulled into a space in the country club parking lot. “It’s his day. Be nice.”

It was always Robert Branford’s day, but Cassie got the gist. As they entered the event room, Cassie stopped short. “Really?”

The mood had changed from tasteful to over-the-top. Flanked on either side of the banquet room doors, medieval garbed trumpeters announced each guest in a blast of great fanfare. Crossing the threshold, a trumpet aimed dangerously close to her head, Cassie covered her ear and took in the atmospheric mist courtesy of the dry ice machine. A sultry haze hovered over the dance floor. Hello, could anyone say danger? As she headed to her assigned table, a sudden spate of coughing seized her thanks to the fog irritating her throat. She grabbed a goblet of water from the table for a soothing sip.

Huge white calla lily centerpieces, dripping with crystal beads, took up half the space on the round dinner tables. Spotless linens with the initials A & R embroidered in silver and black thread covered the tables. Champagne glasses with silver rims waited to be filled with sparkling wine. A massive champagne waterfall took up one corner of the room, a chocolate fountain positioned in another.

Soon, a six-course dinner would be followed by dancing until dawn.

Held at the Cypress Pointe Country Club, the town elite made an appearance at the flashy reception. Dressed to the nines, everyone tried outdoing each other. Cassie had let her soon-to-be stepmother talk her into a short emerald-colored dress with a sheer lace covering and high silver pumps. She’d have been happier in a casual dress and sandals instead of shoes that pinched, but Angelica would have fainted on the spot. Even Cassie’s hair bothered her. She reached up to touch the elaborate style.

“Quit fussing,” Lauren hissed, smoothing the skirt of her navy dress.

“I feel like a mannequin in the department store. No one wears their hair like this. And don’t get me started on the time spent at the salon. Three hours? On hair?”

“It’s better than your usual braid.”

“Hey. I like my braid. It keeps the hair out of my face.”

“At least the hairdresser hid that dreadful pink streak you insist on. It’s not appropriate for a beautiful event like this wedding.”

She liked the pink streak. Or any color streak that gave her pizzazz. As a popular music artist, she’d developed her own standout look, regardless of family opinion.

“Suck-up,” Cassie muttered under her breath.

“What did you say?”

“You look lovely,” she answered.

And Lauren did. Both sisters shared a light skin tone, but their hair color differed. Cassie’s, a light sandy brown, hung long and straight, while Lauren’s, a warm ash, was cut at her shoulders, much more fashionable than Cassie’s. Lauren had acquired the conservative gene, which seemed to have skipped Cassie. And while the sisters resembled each other, that was where the similarities ended. Especially with regard to this wedding.

“Thanks. I want Dad to be proud.”

That was never going to happen, but Cassie didn’t express her opinion. How many times had she tried to earn his approval, only to be shot down? She and Lauren argued time and again over the subject of their father and never made any headway. Today wasn’t going to change the impasse.

Angelica came up behind them, her arms circling their waists, catching the tail end of the conversation. “Robert is over the moon. Both of his daughters here for the happiest day of his life.”

Cassie bit the inside of her cheek. She liked Angelica, she really did, but sometimes the older woman didn’t have a clue. Maybe it was better like that.

“Now, girls, your father would like you all in a picture together. He’s waiting by the windows.”

Normally, the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the lush golf course. For the wedding festivities, however, a huge cutout fairy-tale castle obscured the idyllic view. Light emanating from the early spring evening snuck in beside the garish photo spot. Cassie sneaked a peek. Honestly, the palette of orange, purple and deep blue streaking the sky, hues only an artist could have conjured, would have been a much more appropriate backdrop for a wedding, but Angelica wanted a “fun” background for guests to take commemorative pictures. Hats, feather boas and masks were scattered on the nearby table for the guests to don in their photos, which were digitally printed out seconds later.

As Angelica stepped back, Lauren grabbed Cassie’s hand and pulled. “C’mon. We can’t keep him waiting.”

Cassie allowed herself to be tugged along. If she had her choice, she’d make an excuse not to be photographed, but Robert loved being the center of attention. Tall, his brown hair immaculately cut, his shoulders straight and steady in a custom fitted tuxedo, he was used to commanding the room. A symphony conductor, he moved audiences with his dramatic flair for interpreting musical scores, touching the hearts of listeners. Tonight, his command included the wedding guests and his daughters.

“Here we are,” Lauren said as they arrived. She hurried to loop her arm through his. Cassie hovered a few feet away.

Robert held out his other arm for Cassie. “Well?”

She shuffled to his side, begrudgingly taking his arm.

“You could look a little more excited, Cassandra,” Robert spoke from the corner of his mouth. “Even when you were a child I never could get you to smile.”

Pasting on a fake grin, Cassie returned with, “Better?”

Flashes of light blinded her as the photographer snapped pictures, but she continued to hold her smile. Before long, Angelica joined in. One big happy family.

As soon as the photographer signaled he was finished, Cassie beelined to the ladies’ room to compose herself.

Compose. Hah. Like she needed to be reminded that she should be in California writing music for her next album, not a couple thousand miles away in Florida, at a wedding she would have missed if her sister hadn’t cajoled her into coming.

“It wouldn’t matter where I am,” she said under her breath as she stood before the wide restroom mirror hanging on the wall over a bank of gleaming sinks. She was having trouble coming up with new music. To be honest, her lack of inspiration scared her. This next project would make or break her career and so far...nothing.

Keep at it, sweetheart. One day you’ll get better.

Her first pop album had been a surprise commercial success. At twenty-three, she’d made a name in the industry with her haunting melodies, her soul-stirring lyrics, her clear voice. Her writing, so pure then, had come from the depths of her soul. Critics had called her work natural and her style heartfelt. The label, thrilled by the interest in their new artist, pushed her back into the studio right away. Caught up in the whirlwind, she went along with the plan to start a second project.

But the label had wanted her to work with new producers, make her music more trendy, they told her. More dance style than ballads and songs with deep conviction, like those on her first record. This time, the music sounded nothing like she’d intended. The process was arduous. There were too many people telling her what to do and how to sound. Because she was so new at this, she went along with the voices of experience. Her manager wanted to please the label. As a result, her second album had tanked.

Could she now be a has-been at twenty-six?

The door opened, drawing Cassie from her morose thoughts. She nodded to a woman dressed in a designer gown, saturated in a cloying floral perfume. Cassie patted her hair again, at a loss as to what else to do. She couldn’t play with her braid since her hair was all curled up around her head and she’d left her clutch at the table so she didn’t have any gloss to touch up her lips with. With a sigh, she stood, staring at her image.

Was she a two-record wonder?

Would her next project be a disaster, too? She knew she should stop thinking like a failure before she even got started, but after the release and disappointment of album number two, she’d lost her mojo. The critics demanded to know what happened to the genuine songstress they’d admired so much, and to be honest, so did Cassie. She’d disliked the music of her sophomore effort. She wanted, no, needed, to get back to basics. She was tired of second-guessing her talent. Fearful of failing again. She hadn’t told a soul, but all the stress had produced a serious case of writer’s block.

She couldn’t write a thing.

And she had to be back in the studio in less than three months.

Keep at it, sweetheart. One day you’ll get better.

The woman came to the sink, eyeing Cassie.

“You’re Robert’s daughter. The musical one.”

She nearly laughed out loud. Right now, she could debate that claim. “That’s me.”

“We’re thrilled to have a man of your father’s prestige as part of our community.”

“I’m so happy for you.”

The woman sent a startled glance at Cassie, not sure what to make of her reply.

“See you on the dance floor,” Cassie said, returning to her assigned table, more than ready to eat dinner and make her escape.

Across the room, a string quartet and a harpist played soft background music. Before the meal began, Angelica stood, a sparkling tiara nestled in her platinum blond hair pulled back in a tight chignon, her makeup flawless, her white dress covered with glittering seed pearls. She tapped her champagne flute with a spoon and smiled as silence descended upon the room.

“Thank you so much, my dear family and friends, for joining Robert and me on our special day. I am so pleased that Robert’s daughters, Cassandra and Lauren, are here to share our happiness.”

Cassie ground her back teeth together. Cassie. My name is Cassie.

“I’ve asked Lauren to make a toast.” She waved her new stepdaughter to her side. “And Cassandra? Please, join us.”

Cassie took her glass and walked over to her new stepmother. Just as Lauren was about to speak, Robert rose and worked his way to her side. He nodded and Lauren began.

“I’ve been so excited for this day to come. Angelica is such a warm and loving woman, just the right person to make my father happy. My sister and I—” she looked over at Cassie. Cassie held up her glass “—are honored to have been raised by such a wonderful father. We thank him for all he’s given us and look forward to what the future brings in his marriage and our lives together.” She lifted her glass. “To Robert and Angelica.”

“To Robert and Angelica,” echoed the guests.

As everyone took their seats, the steady hum of conversation filled the room as dinner was served. Classical music started up again, a quiet backdrop to the festivities.

Cassie leaned into her sister. “Laying it on a bit thick, sis?”

Lauren narrowed her eyes. “I meant every word.”

“Really? The part about Dad—”

Lauren cleared her throat.

“—excuse me, Father, raising us? Please, he was never home and then after the split, he couldn’t get away from Mom and us fast enough.”

“That’s not how I remember it.” Lauren straightened her shoulders and looked away from Cassie.

“Oh, really? Did he make it to your first soccer game?”

“No.”

“Your high school graduation?”

“No.”

“College?”

Silence.

“The day you were honored at work as the first woman in your firm to receive the outstanding employee award?”

Lauren pressed her lips together.

“Yeah. Me, neither. Not my musical recitals or band performances.”

Her sister glared at her. “Just because he missed a few milestones doesn’t make him a bad father. He’s here now.”

A few? Cassie had a list. “Yes, but for how long?”

“Just because you were stubborn and didn’t make contact with him after your first album doesn’t mean he doesn’t care.”

“Oh, he cares. As long as it benefits him.”

Cassie hadn’t heard from her father for years until her first album became popular. He called, texted, enlisted Lauren to try to make Cassie return his attempts to reach her. Why, when he didn’t have time for her before she gained popularity, would she reconnect with him now? Her loyalty remained with the mother who’d raised Cassie and her sister after he left, working two jobs and keeping a loving, stable home for her daughters.

“Let’s not argue,” Lauren said, reaching out to take her hand. “Not today.”

With a sigh, Cassie took her sister’s hand in hers. She loved Lauren dearly. Just because her sister was blinded by their father’s charm didn’t mean Cassie wanted them to fight. “I agree.” She might not want to be here, but was glad for some bonding time with Lauren while she was in Cypress Pointe.

The main dish of roasted chicken, grilled vegetables and risotto was superb, but after a few bites, and the nausea that followed, Cassie picked at her food. Her stomach was twisted in a perpetual knot lately, making it hard to keep anything down. If she didn’t get over this writer’s block soon, she’d be physically sick as well as out of a career.

The guest sitting next to her left his seat and within seconds her father took his place. She tried not to stiffen, but too many years of bad blood couldn’t be denied.

“Nice reception, Dad.”

A shadow passed over her father’s eyes. “Thank you. I’m glad you could make it, Cassandra.”

“Why can’t you call me Cassie like everyone else?”

“It’s your given name.”

She stretched her neck back and forth, working out the tension.

An awkward moment passed.

“How is work on the new album going?” he asked.

“We’re in the early stages so I’ve mostly been thinking about the project.”

She spoke the truth. Coming up with songs was all she thought about.

“You should make significant changes this time. The sound on your last album wasn’t exactly you.”

She met his gaze, a forest green, as similarly striking as her own. “I’m aware, so yes, I’m going to make changes.”

He nodded, pleased his sage words brought some clarity to her decision-making. Even when she was a kid he was always critical, whether it was her piano form or music style.

“Perhaps I can have a small musical part on your next release. I have been known to play the piano quite well.”

She blinked. “Come again?”

“It would be fun. Father and daughter making music together. Remember when you were young and I taught you to play the keyboard? It can be that way again.”

Fun? Cassie shivered as a memory unfolded in her mind. She was ten, waiting for one of her father’s infrequent trips home.

“Daddy. You’re home. I did it! I wrote a song.”

Robert dropped his suitcase as Cassie grabbed his hand, dragging him to the piano.

“I did it, just like you said.”

“Can’t this wait, Cassandra?” Impatience tinged his tone. “I just walked in the door.”

“Please. Just listen.”

He sighed. “Very well.”

Cassie jumped on the piano stool, made room for him beside her and began to play, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she sang about flowers and puppies and summertime. When the song came to an end, she waited for his critique, her heart pounding. “Well?”

“Keep at it, sweetheart. One day you’ll get better.”

Then he rose from the bench and walked away.

Was he serious? She searched his expression but he seemed sincere. Like years of estrangement didn’t matter and they could become buddies overnight?

“To be honest, I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“Let me know. I’m always willing to share my talent with those who need it.”

Those who need it? How about to get his name in the limelight? That sounded more plausible.

She couldn’t continue this conversation. Taking her napkin from her lap, she folded it and set it beside her plate. “Please excuse me. I have to go...somewhere.”

Robert rose and pulled back her chair. “Of course. Save a dance for me.”

With a nod she took hold of her beaded clutch bag and skirted the table, not sure which direction to head. The string quartet moved off the stage to pack up while another band set up for the reception entertainment. Too bad. She’d enjoyed the chamber music.

Work that sound into a song.

She stopped short. Could it be? Her muse finally making an appearance? But just as quickly as the thought flickered through her mind, it vanished.

She stood still near the slightly raised platform set aside for the band, her mind in turmoil. Hot tears burned her eyelids. Not now. Not here.

With clumsy fingers, she opened her clutch, searching for a tissue. Dabbing her eyes, she slowly steadied her breath. A masculine voice sounded beside her.

“Are you okay?”

Hoping her mascara hadn’t run, she turned to find a man with shaggy dark blond hair smiling at her. Dressed in black slacks and a white button-down shirt, his chocolate-brown eyes held a hint of concern. Flustered, she couldn’t find her words.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you, but you looked upset.”

She waved her hand. “It’s nothing. You know, weddings.”

His brow rose.

“The emotion and all.”

“Right.”

“It’s my dad’s special day.”

“Congratulations.” He paused, then his gaze moved to the platform and back. “I need to get to work.”

“Work?”

“Wedding band.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

“No problem. Enjoy the rest of the reception.”

“Thanks,” she said as he moved away. Was it her imagination or did he look familiar? She hadn’t been back to town in years, not since her mother and stepfather settled in Cypress Pointe her freshman year of high school. Did she know him from school?

With athletic ease, the man leaped onto the platform, then removed his guitar from a case. He set the instrument in a stand by his feet before moving the case behind the curtain backdrop along the wall. When he finally lifted the strap over his head and plugged in his guitar, it hit her.

Luke Hastings. Only one of the best songwriters in the music industry. A four-time Grammy winner. A man who’d churned out hits before retiring to parts unknown at the height of his career. He’d been in Cypress Pointe all this time?

She’d seen pictures of him in tabloids and magazines, but never paid attention to his handsome features. In person, he made her breath hitch. Which surprised her more? That he lived in her old hometown or that she’d never noticed how good-looking he was? Both, actually. She’d worked with plenty of guys in LA, yet not one made her head turn like Luke did.

“Hey, what’s up with you?” her sister asked as she came up beside her.

“Do you know who he is?” She covertly pointed at Luke.

“Yeah. Luke. He’s a teacher at C.P. High.”

Cassie twirled on her sister. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“About a teacher? Why would you care?”

“Because he’s Luke Hastings.”

Her sister still looked confused. “So?”

“So. So? He’s only a genius songwriter.”

Lauren looked up at the stage, head tilted. “Huh.”

“Huh. That’s all, just huh?”

“Cassie, I work in finance. I don’t know songwriters. That’s your area.”

Cassie glanced over her shoulder, her heart thumping double time. “He’s only a hero of mine. I started writing music after I heard ‘Won’t You Love Me Always.’”

“I remember that song. You used to drive me crazy singing it nonstop.”

She pointed her thumb over her shoulder. “He wrote the lyrics.”

Lauren shrugged. “So goody. You get to meet your idol.”

Cassie went blank. “Meet him?”

“Well, yeah. He’s here. You’re here. Go introduce yourself.”

Did she dare? He’d left the business for a reason. Besides, he was working. Maybe he didn’t want her fawning all over him.

“I... He...”

“You’d better come up with better lyrics than that,” her sister advised as she swooshed off across the room.

Cassie slowly turned. Made her way to the wall where she slumped against it while the wheels turned in her mind. Luke Hastings, a man she’d admired for his song-crafting ability, in the same room as she. Did she dare introduce herself? What did she have to lose?

* * *

LUKE HASTINGS LOOKED up from a quick tuning to find the pretty woman he’d spoken to leaning against the wall. She stared at him, as if she’d seen a ghost.

He might as well be, at least in the music industry. He’d walked away from a lucrative career, turned his back on the one thing he loved most in his life, writing music. Sought refuge in this small town after a public divorce cut his heart and soul to shreds. Yeah, he was a ghost and intended on keeping it that way.

“Luke, did you bring the extra music in case we get requests?” his buddy Ryan asked from his position behind the keyboard.

The band had practiced the bride and groom’s preselected songs, which Luke could play with his eyes closed, but they always kept backup for the odd song a reception guest requested. Luke set his Mac computer on the stand beside him and booted it up. After a few clicks, the music program opened and the band synced together.

“Got it.” Luke glanced over at the drums. “Where’s Sonny?”

Ryan scanned the room then smiled. “Hitting on one of the guests.”

Luke chuckled. “He does know we’re starting in five?”

“Yeah.” Ryan waved. “Here he comes.”

Sonny jumped onto the stage and held up his cell, a goofy grin stretching his lips. “I got her number.”

Brian, the bass player, slapped him on the back. “Great. You can call her when we’re finished.”

“Dude, you’re killing me.”

Luke nodded to the empty seat behind the drums. “You have a job to do.”

Sonny stepped over the amp chords and picked up his sticks.

Luke loved his buddies like brothers, but sometimes he had to rein them in. Sonny constantly looked for a girlfriend, Ryan constantly worried over money since he’d recently become a new dad, and Brian, well, if he were any more laid-back, he’d be asleep. Luke was the glue that held this small wedding band, Sandy Palms, together.

“Hey, who’s the cutie you were talking to?” Sonny asked Luke. “Maybe I can get her number, too.”

“Daughter of the groom.”

“She got a name?”

“Yeah. Sit your butt down and play.”

Sonny frowned. “That’s not a very nice name.”

Luke shook his head. “Please, sit. We’re about to start.”

Sonny took his place and before long, the group started the first song of the set. A few people made their way to the dance floor. Others mingled or finished their meal. After the second song, Luke spoke into the microphone.

“Welcome, everyone, to the wedding reception of the newly married Robert and Angelica Branford. Let’s give them a big round of applause as they have their first dance as a married couple.”

The smiling couple came forward, dancing to a special song picked out by the bride. Since the couple were the parents, the next dance included the daughters. Luke watched the woman he’d spoken to skirt around her father to dance with the bride, not missing the frown on her father’s face at her evasive move. Soon, though, Luke’s attention shifted back to the song. Before long others filled the dance floor. They played five more songs, then took a break.

“I’m off,” Sonny said, jumping from the stage, in search of Miss Right.

Ryan pulled his cell from his pocket. “I need to call Julie. Check on the baby.”

Brian shrugged. “Guess I’ll get a drink.”

As his band members dispersed, Luke unplugged his guitar. He normally didn’t mingle when they played a gig. Most folks in town had heard his history, but for the most part they knew him as a local teacher and left him alone, which suited him fine. He’d put together the band as a musical outlet and as a way for him and his buddies to earn extra cash.

“Excuse me?”

He glanced over to find the daughter of the groom looking up at him, noticing first her striking green eyes, made a deeper shade by the emerald dress she wore, then the indecision written all over her features. “Can I help you?”

“I think so. I hope so, anyway.” She bit her lower lip, then said, “You’re Luke Hastings.”

Great. He knew by her tone she recognized him as the songwriter, not the teacher. “That’s right.”

Her tentative smile spread, lighting up the deep green hue. “I can’t believe it’s you.”

Here we go. “You’ve heard of Sandy Palms, have you?”

Her smile faded and she blinked. He’d thrown her off, just as he’d hoped. “Sandy Palms?”

“Our band.”

“Um, honestly, no. I’m not from around here. I mean, not any longer.”

She didn’t move and he guessed more small talk would be coming.

“Listen, I don’t mean to be rude, but I need to get ready for the next set.”

“Oh, of course.”

And of course he’d hurt her feelings. He really wanted to see the sparkle return to those amazing eyes.

“Wait.” He stepped from the platform. “Do you play?”

“Yes. I’m—”

“Let me guess. A songwriter?”

“At times.”

He chuckled. “Either you are or aren’t.”

“At this moment in time, no.”

“As opposed to other moments?”

She shrugged, the light in her eyes dimming. He tilted his head, intrigued. Then straightened. Stop, his inner voice scolded. He didn’t need a female distraction.

Still, it had been a long time since he’d been floored by a woman’s eyes.

“I didn’t mean to bother you,” she was saying. “I’m a fan and wanted to say hi.”

“You have me at a disadvantage.”

“I’m Cassie Branford.” After a slight hesitation, she held out her hand.

“Well, Cassie, nice meeting you.” He took her hand in his, surprised by the zing accompanying the gesture.

“No, the pleasure is all mine. I remember—”

She stopped when her father approached, losing the airiness from just a second ago. She broke the connection, leaving him bummed that he hadn’t heard more.

“Mr. Branford,” he greeted the groom. “Congratulations.”

The man barely acknowledged him, focused instead on his daughter.

“Cassandra, you aren’t thinking of joining the band for a number, are you?”

Number? What was he talking about?

“No. I was just talking to Luke.”

Mr. Branford looked Luke over, sizing him up in a less than complimentary manner.

“You do know who my daughter is?” he asked, condescension oozing from the man.

Glancing at the woman again, it struck him. With a name to go with the face, he recognized Cassie. He might not be part of the music scene anymore, but he wasn’t dead. Still, with her hair up and wearing a dress that hugged her curves, she didn’t portray the confident woman from pop magazine pictures. Her signature braid, a different color always running through it, was missing at the moment, which had thrown him off.

“Dad. Not now.”

“Well, if you’re going to play he should know. Let you take the lead.”

“Know what?” He should have been paying better attention to the vibe around him, because a sinking feeling warned him all was not right.

Cassie shifted and said, “I’m not playing with the band.”

“You should.”

Luke met her gaze. Read the discomfort there.

“So you’re a professional musician?” he asked, even though he knew the answer.

“Cassandra is a successful popular music artist,” her father boasted. “You both have many things in common.”

Heat flushed through Luke. The protective wall he’d cultivated over the years to keep his old life locked away rose as Cassie’s uncertain smile returned. As much as he tried to maintain a low profile, people from the industry found him from time to time. Granted, Cassie was merely a guest at her father’s wedding, but old habits were hard to ignore. Better to stop this intrusion before it went any further.

“I doubt it.”

Cassie flinched at his tone. “I only wanted to ask about your ca—”

“I’m not part of the industry any longer. I’m sorry, I can’t help you.”

He turned on his heel and walked away. Yeah, he’d been rude, but he’d sensed where the conversation was headed and would rather tap-dance on hot coals than reminisce about the old days. He was not going to talk shop with this woman. Or any woman, for that matter. His time in the music industry was over and he intended on keeping it that way.

CHAPTER TWO

“THANKS, DAD. YOU JUST blew my chance to talk to the greatest songwriter who ever lived.”

Her father lifted a haughty brow. “The greatest who ever lived? I believe that’s a bit of an overstatement.”

“You know what I meant. Luke had a stellar career.”

“Which he walked away from. Messy personal life if I remember correctly.” His eyes narrowed. “And why is it so important to talk to him?”

Like she’d admit her writer’s block to anyone, especially her father. “I’m a fan. That’s all.”

“Cassandra, he’s been reduced to a wedding band singer. Old news. Focus on the future.”

Why did she even bother speaking to her father? Fisting her hands together, she turned and navigated through the mingling guests. What had her father been thinking? See, this was why she kept her distance. Her father didn’t have a clue about who she was or what she wanted.

She’d just reached the door to leave when it hit her. Luke could help her. She needed his expertise. The question was, how could she get it?

The band started up again. Instead of storming off like she’d intended, she went back to the table she’d been seated at earlier. She angled her chair to face the far side of the room. A bird’s eye view of the man in question.

She needed a plan. A way to work up the nerve to ask the legendary Luke Hastings for some tips to help her out of her writing funk. But how? This certainly wasn’t the opportune place to approach him. Yet if she didn’t talk to him tonight, she might miss her one and only chance.

“I just danced with Father,” Lauren said as she flopped into the chair beside her. “He seems distracted. What did you do?”

“Why do you always assume I did something?”

“Because I saw the heated conversation between you two.”

Cassie sent her a sideways glance. “Just the usual. Honestly, I’m more interested in Luke. What do you know about him?”

“Like, what subject he teaches? If he’s involved with anyone?”

“No. His life here in Cypress Pointe.”

Lauren crossed one leg over the other. “Let’s see. Moved here a couple years ago. His cousin owns the Grand Cypress Hotel. He teaches English at the high school and started an after-school program that morphed into a community outreach for at-risk teens.”

“Wow.”

“Kids’ Klub has been pretty successful. Redirects kids going in the wrong direction.”

Noble and hunky. Perfect combination.

“Why are you so interested?” Her sister’s eyes went wide. “Oh, my gosh, you have a crush on him.”

“I do not,” Cassie insisted, even if she couldn’t meet her sister’s gaze. “I want to talk to him about something and it would help if I knew more about him.”

“So explain why your cheeks are red.”

“It’s hot in here.”

“Right. Don’t forget, I’m the one who heard all about your undying love for Chris Johnson.”

“Chris Johnson?” Cassie’s mouth gaped. “That was like eight years ago.”

“And you were crushed when he broke up with you.”

True, she was, but moving away from Cypress Pointe and keeping busy had gotten her through that dark period in her life.

“Just so you know, he got fat.”

Cassie laughed out loud. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

Her sister’s quick grin slowly faded. “I miss our times together.”

“Me, too.”

Cassie’s heart squeezed at her sister’s soft expression. They hadn’t grown apart, exactly, more like distance, time and separate lives put a strain on their relationship. Their differing views on their father, Lauren’s insistence on proving herself to him while Cassie didn’t want him around, created another, ongoing source of tension between them.

“I’m glad you let me stay with you. Since Mom and Bud are still away, I didn’t want to spend all my time in their empty house.”

“That what sisters do. Let each other crash on the other’s extra bed.”

“I was hoping we could—”

Lauren jumped up “Angelica is waving me over. I’ll be right back.”

“Hold on.” Cassie grabbed her arm. “So if Luke is so busy, why the wedding band?”

Lauren shrugged. “You’ll have to ask him yourself.” Then she was gone.

Cassie blew out a sigh.

She glanced across the room. Luke picked the guitar with one hand, his fingers effortlessly positioning the chords with the other, and sang along with the guys. So in the moment, he moved with the beat, smiled at a band member from time to time. How she missed the total abandonment she experienced when she sang and played her piano, lost in the words and the tempo.

Her heartbeat sped up again, matching the emotions swirling inside. As she studied Luke, she realized she’d first thought his hair was shaggy. The more she looked, the more she realized it had been deliberately styled. It gave him a bit of a free spirit look, yet not out of control. Hmm, some stylist in his past life had taught him well.

His fingers expertly moved up and down the neck of the guitar, bringing an unmistakable sound from the instrument. He certainly had a flair. The band performed mostly wedding standards, she noticed, none of the songs that made Luke famous. From his attitude earlier, he probably avoided those particular songs on purpose.

Twenty minutes later the band took a break. Cassie waited for Luke to be alone, but one of the band members was talking his ear off. She should wander over, start another conversation with him, but she couldn’t seem to leave the chair.

Even though he’d made it clear he didn’t talk about the industry, Cassie couldn’t take no for an answer. Her chest constricted, the noose of her future pulling tighter. She could do this. She’d gathered enough information about Luke to make small talk while she bided her time to get to the root of her dilemma. She just had to wait for a chance to grab his attention. Luckily, she was a patient woman.

She swore he’d looked directly at her during one of the numbers, but the lights were too low to know for sure. Her imagination? Hopeful wishing? She sat through two more sets before the party began to wind down and the band finally performed their final number.

To her surprise, the band members took off quickly, leaving Luke to break down the equipment.

Taking a deep breath, she approached the platform.

“You guys sounded great tonight. Been playing together for a while?”

“Couple years.”

“So...I wanted to apologize for my father.”

Luke shot her an amused glance. “Overprotective?”

She’d have laughed out loud at the notion if it wasn’t so sad. “No, more like too much interference in my life.” She moved closer, silently high-fiving the fact that Luke wanted to engage in conversation. “We aren’t exactly close.”

He nodded. “No offense taken. I stopped worrying about what people think a long time ago.”

If only she could adopt the same mantra.

“My sister tells me you teach high school English.”

“I do.” He unzipped his case and gently laid the guitar inside. She admired people who took special care of their instruments. “Never thought I’d impact any kids, but it’s turned out to be one of the best experiences of my life.”

“Did you take over for Mrs. Trumbull?”

“No. She was gone before I arrived. She did leave a legacy behind.”

Cassie shuddered. “Of fear. I remember sweating out the Shakespeare semester. Her assignments were killer.”

Luke chuckled. “I sure hope my legacy isn’t that negative.”

“As long as you don’t pull your hair back in a severe bun, narrow your eyes at your students and make everyone uncomfortable, you should be fine.”

He patted the back of his head. “I never considered a new hairstyle. Maybe a man bun would up my cool factor and keep the kids in line.”

She laughed, delighted by his sense of humor. He didn’t need a bun to be any more good-looking in her eyes.

He snapped the latches on the case and faced her. “Did you do well on the Shakespeare assignment?”

She squinted, thinking back. “B, maybe? I have to say, she laid down a really good foundation. The subsequent years of Shakespeare weren’t so horrible.”

“Not a fan of the bard?”

“I can appreciate the work that went into writing his tales, but translating old English is like math. I’d rather not work that hard if I don’t have to.”

“You sound like the majority of my students.”

“Then let’s hope you make learning fun, not a session in terror.”

“I go over Shakespeare, but throw in other more contemporary works for my students to read.”

“Writing isn’t as easy as everyone thinks.”

“I’m sure my students would agree.” Taking hold of the handle, he lifted the case and stepped down from the platform. “It’s been nice talking to you.”

Cassie’s stomach dipped. She had to keep him interested. “Same here.” She glanced at his case. “You really know how to play.”

“Years of practice.”

“I didn’t get serious until I was in high school.”

He took a step back. “Well, I need to take off.”

By the shuddered look in his eyes, she could tell he’d checked out of the conversation. Drat. She’d lost him.

“Well, I’ll be in town awhile longer. Maybe we’ll run into each other.”

“Anything is possible.”

“I’d love to talk to you about your songwriting days. You’ve been—”

He held his hand up “Let me stop you right there.”

She blinked. His sudden displeasure indicated she’d gone too far.

“I’m not going to talk about music careers, songwriting or whatever you have your mind set on.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t. I just need you to know I’m not available for whatever it is you want.”

Her heart sank as he turned and crossed the room. Good night to you, too, Luke Hastings.

* * *

LUKE STEPPED INTO the mild spring night, his face hot, his chest tight. Upset? Him? Right, not much. Slowly, he eased the pressure of the fist holding the guitar case handle, letting his breath out in slow degrees.

He stopped. Shook out his arms. Tilted his head back.

The dark sky was clear, stars twinkled above him. Cicadas buzzed, hidden beyond the empty golf course. A lonely frog belched nearby. The air, still warm even after the sun had set a few hours ago, held a hint of something sweet, like flowers. In the distance, the sprinkler system sputtered and hissed as it turned on.

All in all, a beautiful night to just let go and not think at all.

If only he could oblige.

He’d gone at least six months without the anger and despair building up. All it had taken this time was an attractive woman with expectation in her eyes to reduce him to this state.

It was clear Cassie wanted something from him. She’d floundered getting to the point, but once she admitted it was to talk shop, he couldn’t handle it. He didn’t have it in him to go back in time, to the place where another woman selfishly bent on fulfilling her dreams had squashed his.

He hated that he wasn’t stronger. But the truth was as clear as the night sky. He hadn’t forgiven Tracy. Was afraid he never could.

He continued walking to his black two-door BMW, his footsteps steady against the pavement. It had been two years since Tracy’s betrayal. Shouldn’t he be over it by now?

Get a clue, Hastings. People will always let you down.

As he unlocked the trunk and laid the guitar case inside, he wondered once again for the millionth time, what was wrong with him. Whoever said time heals all wounds hadn’t been cheated on by an ex-wife.

“You’re leaving kinda late.”

At the sound of a voice in the darkness, Luke froze, until a figure materialized, stepping into the circle of light provided by the overhead fixture. He recognized his cousin, Dane Peterson, a local hotel owner, decked out in a button-down shirt and pressed slacks, his hair cut in his usual short fashion.

He let out a long breath as he slammed the trunk closed. “You want me to have a heart attack?”

Dane held a hand up. “Sorry. Thought you might have noticed me.”

“No. I was thinking.”

“Yeah, I could tell. With you, that’s never good. Tracy?”

“No, actually, I’m...” He paused a beat. “Hey, what’re you doing here?”

“Picking up Nealy. Her car is in the shop.”

“I saw her a few times tonight. She was running all over the place.”

“She loves being an event planner, but this reception was not her dream job. Angelica kept after her until she gave in.”

Luke glanced around. “Where is she?”

“Forgot something and ran back inside.” Dane leaned back against the car, crossing one ankle over the other. “So, what’s up?”

“I met a woman and—”

“Wait,” Dane interrupted. “Repeat that. You met a woman?”

“Not met, like I want to go out on a date. I talked to the daughter of the groom.”

Dane’s deep chuckle echoed in the still night.

“You already knew?”

His cousin nodded.

“How?”

A besotted expression came over the other man’s face. “Nealy.”

As usual, his cousin’s girlfriend was one step ahead of everyone.

“First thing she said when she walked out the door tonight was, ‘I saw Luke talking to a very lovely young lady.’”

“Why do I even bother to have a personal life?”

“Dude, it’s Cypress Pointe. People notice other people and what they’re doing.”

“I thought I’d left the scrutiny behind when I moved here.” Luke shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “So I was talking to a woman, but it’s not what you think.”

“Let me guess. Brought up bad memories?”

“Big time.”

“So tell me you have a good reason not to ask an attractive woman out,” Dane said, settling into the conversation.

“No good reason. More of a hunch.”

“About?”

Luke shifted uncomfortably. Suddenly his dress shoes pinched way too tight, the collar of his shirt became stifling. “She wanted to talk about music.”

“She knows who you are?”

“Yeah. And she’s a pop singer. Cassie Branford.”

“Nealy plays her music all the time.”

“So you see my dilemma?”

Dane cocked his head to one side. “No, I do not.”

“She’s everything I’ve been staying away from since I moved here.”

“And you’re afraid, what, that talking to her about music will somehow make you face up to the last two years?”

The old stubbornness overwhelmed him. “Maybe I don’t want to forget.”

“Or more like you don’t want to forgive.”

Luke ran a hand through his hair. “I never thought I’d end up here, like this.”

“Yet here you stand, kicking yourself over something you had no control over.”

“It still hurts.”

“I get that. But maybe you should let go. Cut yourself some slack. You can’t be a martyr forever.”

Luke met his cousin’s sharp gaze. “Is that how you see me?”

“When you first got here. Lately, less so.”

“You’re not the only one, are you?”

Dane shrugged. “I don’t discuss you with other people.”

“Nealy?”

“Nealy’s not other people. Besides, she has a good sense about folks.”

“Yeah? What does she think about me?”

Dane pushed away from the car. “Luke, when you first got here, you were a mess. Rightfully so. But we both think you’ve grieved long enough. Tracy doesn’t deserve a second thought and you can’t keep living this way.”

“Believe it or not, I agree. I just can’t seem to move ahead.”

“What about this woman? If she’s caught your interest, maybe this can be the first step to getting on with your life.”

He pictured Cassie. Soft brown hair. Incredible eyes. A little bit of a dimple when she smiled at him. She’d caught his attention, even before he recognized her.

“Not every person in your life is going to hurt you, Luke.”

Neither he nor his cousin came from very stable homes. Dane’s folks fought all the time, leaving him and his brother to do as they pleased, which hadn’t always turned out for the best. Luke’s own parents had been abusive. His father and brother were in and out of jail. His mother? Who knew? He’d wanted to change his life when he married Tracy. Thought they’d had a chance. It made sense why Luke was reluctant to place his hopes too high, only to be knocked down again.

Which meant he wasn’t about to trust his heart to another woman.

Luke broke the silence. “She’s pregnant, you know.”

“Tracy?”

He nodded.

Dane blew out a low whistle.

“After years of promises, of stringing me along, she’s finally expecting with her new husband.”

“Sorry, man.”

That’s what hurt the most, Luke realized. “I get that Tracy was ambitious. We wrote a lot of hits together. I shouldn’t have been surprised when she left me for Andrews or how she talked me into giving her royalties in the divorce for that last song of ours.”

“I never got why you would just hand that song over to her.”

“At that point I just wanted out of the marriage and would do anything to expedite the matter. The paparazzi hounded me, all because Tracy fed them a steady diet of our marital drama.” He ran a hand over the back of his neck to release the tension. “The song hadn’t been released so I figured it didn’t matter much. Major lapse in judgment.” He sighed. Who knew in his haste he’d sign over their top moneymaking hit ever? “But a baby? Talk about a double whammy. She promised we’d have a family. Knew how much I wanted to be a father. Even went so far as to make me think she might actually be pregnant more than once.”

“I never liked her,” Dane said, sounding like something rotten filled his mouth.

Luke appreciated his cousin’s loyalty. “It’s like she ended up with it all while I got the pain.”

“So, change your future. Take some chances. You might—no, you will—get hurt again somewhere along the line. But you gotta get back to living.”

Luke stared out over the deserted golf course. His cousin was right. He would never write another song, but he needed to get his priorities together. He was only thirty-five. Time to stop skulking in the shadows and be open to the possibility of meeting people.

Maybe he should do as Dane suggested. Ask a woman out on a date. Not that he was in a hurry for romance, though. But he did need to start enjoying the present instead of dwelling on bad decisions from the past.

He was about to tell his cousin so when his cell rang. He pulled the phone from his pocket and read the screen. “Gotta run. Trouble down at the pier.”

“One of your kids?”

“Looks like.” Luke slapped his hand on Dane’s shoulder. “Thanks for listening. Tonight threw me.”

“Figured. Listen, we’re family. You may keep your feelings close to the vest, but I always have your back.”

“Same.”

A sly grin curved Dane’s lips. “And so does Nealy.”

“Why does that make me want to run?”

“She wants to see you happy.”

“So do I, but I’ll get there on my own.”

They parted ways. Luke drove through the deserted downtown. All the businesses were locked up tight and safe for the night. A plus to living in a small town. He’d had his share of big cities and found Cypress Pointe suited his temperament.

He reached the marina, pulling up to find red and blue lights swirling from a police car parked in the lot. Shoot. Not what he’d wanted to see. Chief Gardener spoke to a blond-haired teenage boy slouched against the squad car.

Parking a few feet away, Luke met the scene with the right amount of sympathy and steel he’d adopted since starting Kids’ Klub.

“Chief. What’s going on?”

“Seems young Snyder and his buddies intended to sneak onto a boat moored here. Instead, they broke some glass on the dock. Made a ruckus.”

Luke stared down at the teen. “Kyle, we talked about this.”

The boy hung his head in silence.

“Are you charging him?”

“Lucky for him he cleaned up the mess after his friends took off.” The chief put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “He’s free to go, as long as he tells me this is the end of this nonsense.”

Kyle, his eyes partially hidden under messy bangs, met the chief’s gaze. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s not a promise.”

The teen sighed. “Yeah, I promise.”

The chief removed his hand and nodded to Luke. “He’s all yours.”

Kyle stepped away from the car, head down as he approached Luke.

“Let’s get you home.”

Once in the car, Luke waited before speaking. Kyle huddled against the passenger door, as far away from Luke as possible. In working with at-risk teens, he’d found that helping certain kids meant making them sweat it out a bit. Kyle was no exception. Luke started the car, motored from the lot.

“Thought you stopped running with that group.”

Kyle shrugged, with the feigned nonchalance only teens could pull off.

“Was there an answer in that shrug? Because I sure didn’t hear anything.”

“It’s not easy,” Kyle mumbled.

“Nothing is. But if you want me to keep your place in the music program at the Klub, I can’t be bailing you out when your buddies leave you to take the fall. This is the second time.”

Kyle’s head jerked up. “You’d kick me out?”

“If you get in trouble again, yeah, I will.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hastings. I don’t want to leave the program. I’m finally getting the hang of those chords you showed me.”

“Then you’d better remember that the next time you go to cause trouble.”

Kyle straightened in his seat. “I will.”

The remainder of the journey passed in silence until Luke pulled into Kyle’s driveway and put the car in park.

The house was situated in a nice, older neighborhood. The homes were fairly close together. He’d noticed a few bikes on the ground in a yard across the street. Heard a dog bark down the block. Very middle class, very reassuring.

Since settling in Cypress Pointe, Luke had bought a house on the edge of town, within walking distance from the Gulf Waters. Separated far enough on each side from prying neighbors, it became less of a sanctuary and more of a prison of his own making. The past few months had been better, but if he were honest, he’d been waiting for something to threaten his hard-earned peace. Who would have thought a woman with incredible green eyes would be the one to disrupt his quiet spell?

Shaking off the thought, he cut the ignition and turned in his seat.

“Kyle, you have talent. Don’t blow it over some guys who don’t care about you.”

“I hear you, Mr. Hastings.”

“Do you? It seems like we’ve had this conversation before.”

Kyle slumped in his seat.

“Now let’s go talk to your parents.”

Apprehensive eyes met his. “Do we have to?”

“You know the rules.”

“Stupid rules,” Kyle muttered as he opened his door to slide out. In the cover of darkness, Luke grinned at the boy’s discomfort. Wished someone had cared enough to enforce rules when he was a kid so he and his brother wouldn’t have ended up in hot water more than a few times.

As they walked up to the front porch, Luke said, “You know, Kyle, you could call me if you’re not sure what to do.”

Kyle glanced at him. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“No. So long as it’s not a habit. I wouldn’t mind helping you out. Before the cops do.”

A sheepish grin curved Kyle’s lips. “Got it.”

When they reached the house, the front door flew open. Kyle’s parents stood in the doorway, the bright light from inside silhouetting them.

“Kyle,” his mother said, hand over her heart. “Come inside.” She opened the door to let her son in while her husband stepped out.

“I’ll be just a minute,” he told his wife.

Kyle nodded at Luke then followed his mom.

“I’m sorry Kyle inconvenienced you, Mr. Hastings.”

“Luke, please. And it was no bother. I happened to be out anyway.”

The older man crossed his arms over his chest. “Kyle’s doing so much better. He really enjoys the program at the Klub.”

“But kids still get lured into what they think is an exciting life. I understand.”

“Will he still be able to continue with his guitar lessons?”

“Yes. But I told him if he gets in trouble again, his place will be in jeopardy.”

Kyle’s father nodded. “Thank you.”

“I want Kids’ Klub to help kids like Kyle, so I hope he’ll use better judgment in the future. Good night.”

Luke drove home, his thoughts slipping from Kyle to his own brother. Would a program like the one he’d started have helped Mark or had he been destined to be drawn to trouble? He supposed he’d never know, especially with Mark behind bars at the moment.

But there was one thing Luke did know for sure. Despite the constant worry about funding the Klub, enlisting help as the programs grew, or even doubting his brother’s turnaround, Luke didn’t regret starting Kids’ Klub for one second. If he helped one kid get away from an abusive home or criminal influence, it was worth the hurt of his old life to get the Klub off the ground.

Dane was wrong in the sense that while it might look like Luke wasn’t living, helping kids brought great meaning to his life. Luke may need a personal shake-up, but he didn’t want to alter this part of his life. The kids were his family.

The other part? Maybe talking to a perky woman who caught his attention while in town for her father’s wedding wouldn’t be as hard as he imagined. What was the worst that could happen?

CHAPTER THREE

THE NEXT MORNING, Cassie sat at her sister’s kitchen table, feet hooked over the lower rung of the chair, her elbows bent while she balanced a pencil on her fingers. A half-empty cup of coffee, her third so far, sat within reaching distance, while she stared at a blank yellow legal pad.

She’d been up since dawn, still dressed in a tank top, sleeping shorts and a threadbare long sleeve denim shirt. Her guitar, which she’d named Ginger for its deep red wood, still inside the case, sat beside her feet. Normally she’d take Ginger out and strum until a melody caught her fancy. Normally. But with her head in a bad place, she didn’t dare touch the instrument.

So far, nothing had come to her. Oh, some random notes. A few words here and there drifted through her brain, words she tried to link together, but she couldn’t make them stick. The words lingered, then escaped as if wisps in the wind.

She gathered her long hair and twisted, then tossed it over her shoulder, hating this surge of frustration. Her sister walked into the kitchen, dressed in a flirty dress, ready to go out to Sunday brunch.

“Sure you don’t want to come?” Lauren asked. “My friends loved meeting meet you last time you were in town.”

“Thanks, but I need to work.”

“How long have you been sitting there?”

“What time is it?” she asked. If she didn’t get it together soon, she was in big trouble.

“You look terrible.” Her sister stated the obvious.

“That’s the look I was going for.” Okay, stop. No point in taking her situation out on Lauren when her sister had absolutely no idea what was going on with Cassie in the first place.

Lauren poured herself a cup of coffee and leaned a hip against the counter, her narrowed eyes trained on Cassie. Uh-oh. Trouble. Her sister hadn’t become a successful financial advisor without being perceptive.

Cassie wiggled in her seat.

“So when are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

“If I have my way, never.”

Lauren sipped her coffee. Cassie could almost picture the wheels turning in her sister’s mind.

“So there is something going on. The wedding?”

“No, it’s not about the wedding.”

“Whatever it is, I’ll listen. I’m told it’s one of my best qualities.”

“As much as I’d love to, you can’t help with this problem.”

“Music?”

“Of course. What else drives me?”

“If you’re having trouble, talk to Dad.”

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen.” She held up her hand as Lauren opened her mouth to argue. Her father had shown her the wonderful world of music, and yes, she’d wanted to please him, but after too many years spent trying to earn her father’s love and never measuring up, she’d stopped trying. Excluding him from her life had helped her to focus as she tried to succeed in the business, finding passion in her talent, without his criticism. “Not because we don’t talk to each other. He can’t help me figure this out.”

A knowing gleam shone in her sister’s eyes. “But Luke Hastings can?”

Her breath caught. “Why would you ask me about him?”

“Because I heard you humming that song of his again.” She snapped her fingers. “You know, something about love.”

“‘Won’t You Love Me Always.’”

“Right. I can never keep all the titles straight. It’s like that one of yours, ‘Pretty Inside.’ I love the message of that song.”

Cassie smiled, remembering the story behind the lyrics. She’d gone to a fancy sorority party in college and while her friends were all dressed up in the latest fashion, she’d worn a casual outfit. Big no-no. She’d brushed off the sideway glances and snickers by pretending to be amused, hiding her hurt feelings. Later on, she’d used the experience to compose a song about beauty coming from inside, not the trendy clothes or shoes that a person wore. It had been one of her most popular singles.

“That was a great time for me. I was away from home for the first time. Mom and Bud were strong so we didn’t have to worry about her like we did when the three of us were making ends meet. It was like the clamoring inside my head finally calmed down and I could take the lyrics I’d been jotting down forever and put them to music.”

“Mom wasn’t happy when you dropped out your senior year.”

“What can I say? When the opportunity to perform full-time arose, I jumped at the chance. Actually made some money.”

“Until LA.”

“It wasn’t easy, but I was living my dream.” She laughed. “I was all about ramen noodle meals, sleeping on friends’ couches and pinching pennies to get by while I knocked on one record label door after another.”

“And now,” her sister asked, “you’re interested in Luke?”

She’d been humming Luke’s love song, a number infused with such deep longing that the singer didn’t know how he’d make it through another day without a commitment from the woman he loved. It was so much a part of her subconscious, taking her back to the painful breakup with Chris around the time of the single’s release. As long as she could remember, humming, singing and playing were natural responses for her, but that song? After hearing it, she’d taken out her journal and begun writing snippets about her feelings, which eventually became lyrics to her own songs.

“The guy is a legend. Look at his reputation. Multiple hits recorded by famous artists. Four Grammy awards. If I could just convince him I don’t want anything tangible from him, just a bit of his time...”

“From what I’ve heard, he doesn’t talk about his old career.”

“I remember reading something about a messy divorce, but I was busy with my career then so I didn’t pay attention.”

“Some people don’t like to dwell in the past. Luke is one of them.”

“It’s a shame. He really made his mark on the music world.”

“And now his mark is Kids’ Klub. When Luke came to town and started teaching, he saw a need for at-risk teens to put their energy into something constructive. He started with music, but soon the concept grew into sports teams and other creative stuff. It still focuses on troubled youth, but the teams and clubs and lessons caught on and developed into an awesome outlet for kids from any background. Not only do the teens in Cypress Pointe take advantage of the Klub, but surrounding towns, as well. And now, local businesses have joined in and will help train kids in their areas of interest. It’s quite a success.”

“I’m impressed.”

“They operated out of the basement of a small community center, but recently Luke moved to an empty warehouse just north of town. He’s hoping to buy the property but funds are tight. He runs the program from donations, including whatever he makes with his wedding band.”

Cassie pictured his face, his dark blond hair and those deep brown eyes. How he’d smiled during a raucous number his band performed at her dad’s reception, or the faraway look that came over him when he sang a love song.

“You certainly have your finger on the pulse of the town, especially this Kids’ Klub,” she said, shaking off the vision.

“I helped Luke draw up a business plan when he first came up with the concept. Guided him through the nonprofit maze, set up the organization books and so on. He recently called me for advice on buying the property and warehouse.”

Cassie tilted her head. “Last night you acted as thought you barely know him.”

Lauren shrugged. “I don’t know him, other than as a client. He doesn’t talk about himself or his life, only the Klub. So essentially he is kind of a stranger, at least about his personal life.”

“Hmm.”

“I recognize that look,” Lauren said. “You’re still determined to get him on board to help you with...whatever.”

Did she dare confess her darkest fear? Speak aloud the words that kept her awake at night, drenched in a cold sweat, worrying about her future?

Cassie paused, staring out the window. A cardinal landed on the birdfeeder in the backyard. Sitting atop the structure, tall and proud, the beautiful scarlet creature surveyed its surroundings, its stature speaking of control in the world. So unlike Cassie’s state of mind at this very moment.

She finally glanced at her sister, took a bracing breath before saying, “I’m having trouble coming up with new material. That’s why I’m so interested in Luke.”

“Since when?”

“Since Living in Paradise tanked. The label wants a repeat of my first album and I can’t put together words or melodies.”

“I remember when we were growing up you were always scribbling in your journal. No wonder you’re worried.”

“I’m hoping this is temporary, so please keep this between us. At least until I can sort this out.”

“I will.” Lauren finished her coffee and placed her mug on the counter. “I may not be able to help you with this, but from the look on your face, I hope you come up with a solution, and soon.” That said, she walked out of the room, leaving behind troubled silence.

Cassie stared at the blank paper again. Was this it? The end? What happened to the ease of jotting down words over the years? All the times growing up when her dad disappointed her or her mother struggled to make ends meet? Yeah, her life made for good lyrics, even though it wasn’t always easy. But still, she had experiences to draw on. Why wouldn’t the words come now?

The record label had expectations. So did her manager and fans. She didn’t want to disappoint any of them.

The yellow legal pad, still as pristine as when she’d bought it, mocked her. She grabbed the pencil and wrote in big, block letters, WRITE.

Not much in terms of inspiration, but right now, it was all she had.

Tapping her pencil against the paper, she closed her eyes. She thought about her conversation with Lauren, which made her think of Luke and his great club for kids. She should really volunteer there to get her mind off her troubles. She’d given music lessons in college to make money, why not do some good while waiting for inspiration to strike?

The more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea. But would Luke accept her assistance? Only one way to find out.

With her mind whirling, Cassie hurried to the guest room. Even though it was Sunday, she’d go to the Klub and see if Luke was available. If he was as dedicated as Lauren said, she suspected he’d be on site. She chose an outfit, showered and dressed in record time, braided her hair and slipped on chunky ankle boots. Enough worrying. She needed action. Time to make a positive impression like her life depended on it.

After calling Lauren for directions, she drove her rented red convertible, complete with all the bells and whistles, to the Klub’s address. The sporty two-seater was similar to her car back home, her one splurge after the first album. As she entered the spacious warehouse, walking into a gymnasium setup, butterflies fluttered in her stomach. She noticed teens hanging out, some playing hoops, others working on some type of project, a good indication Luke was indeed here.

She stopped a young man with glasses. “Can you tell me where I can find Luke Hastings?”

“In his office.” The boy pointed to an opening on the far side of the gym. “Down the hallway.”

“Thanks.”

Hand on her stomach, Cassie ventured to the door clearly marked Mr. Hastings. She lifted her hand to knock on the partially open door when she heard the sudden peal of bells.

Bells? She blinked, realizing the disruption came from her cell phone. Grabbing it from her jacket pocket, she read her manager’s name on the screen. She swiped the screen and said hello.

“Hey, stranger,” said Travis. “You don’t write, you don’t call.”

Did he suspect her dilemma? He couldn’t. She’d only told Lauren about her predicament. See, she was so off balance she was transferring her fears to everything.

“Sorry. Been busy with wedding stuff.”

“Not too busy to work on new material, right? I gotta say, I’m a bit concerned I haven’t heard from you.”

Travis Bailey had taken Cassie under his wing when she’d first made a splash in the club scene around LA. Without his guidance, there’s no telling how she would have navigated the murky waters of the recording industry. The man had a heart of gold, for his clients, anyway. Otherwise his instincts resembled an attack dog, brokering deals and keeping those he managed away from bad contracts and shady characters making false promises. A middle-aged hipster with thinning hair, he had plenty of lines on his boyish face, attesting to years of smiles. He’d become something of a substitute dad to her over the years. Letting him down would break her heart.

“Sorry, Travis. I’m trying to get some work done while I’m here.” She bit her lower lip. Not a lie, exactly. She was trying.

“Great. We have to hit this thing with everything we’ve got. I’ve spoken to Ron and they’re looking for a stellar product.”

Cassie swallowed hard. Ron Harding, an executive at the label and the idiot, er, mastermind, in proposing the changes in her sound, was a hard man to please. He’d dropped other artists for less of a flop than Cassie’s last album.

She’d always wondered why Travis had let the producer tweak her sound. Travis had been gung ho and she’d been so caught up in the whirlwind excitement of cutting another album, she didn’t dare ask. Didn’t dare voice her opinion after only one album with people who’d had years of experience. Well, she’d learned. The bad album fell squarely on her shoulders for not expressing her true self. She wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

“In the meantime, what about a few touring dates before you go into the studio? You know, for momentum. Any thoughts?”

How on earth could she make any appearances when she was most likely going to get kicked out of said studio? All without her manager realizing any of her concerns.

“Um, why don’t you hold off. Or better yet, start looking at the calendar after I finish the album. Don’t want too much on my plate. This project is so important.”

And she needed to stay in Cypress Pointe where she had access to Luke.

Travis went silent for a few beats. “You okay? You sound weird. Pressure isn’t gettin’ to you, is it?”

“We both know this is make or break, Travis. I’d be unrealistic not to be concerned.”

“Now, calm down,” he tsked in the soothing voice that had pulled her from the edge multiple times. “You’ve got this.”

“And if I don’t?”

“We’ll figure it out. Like we always do.”

His words should have made her feel better, but created the opposite effect.

“You’ll keep me in the loop?”

“Yes, sir,” she answered, adding a little sass to her tone.

He chuckled. “That’s more like it, although I still think you should consider touring.”

She winced. “I’ll get back to you on the concert idea.”

“That’s my girl. Talk to you soon.”

Hitting the end button, she stared at the dark screen. She couldn’t tour, not now or in the future. Planning a concert was on the bottom of her to-do list. If, and when, the album was made, she’d consider going on the road. Until then...

Her manager had faith in her, but did she? “What were you thinking, Travis?”

The sound of a throat being cleared made her jump. She looked up into amused brown eyes. “Talk to yourself much?”

Good grief. So much for a positive impression.

* * *

LUKE HELD BACK a grin at Cassie’s mortified expression.

He’d been in his office, fingers stalled over the calculator as the same numbers kept appearing on the screen. A sharp ache took residence in his temple. No matter how many times he went over the accounting, there was still a big gap in his operating capital. Contributions came in regularly, but since the move to the warehouse, cash was tight.

A shout came from the gymnasium. Every Sunday, a bunch of the boys gathered for a game of basketball. Luke didn’t mind opening up, especially when he discovered how many kids wanted to hang out. To him, the sound of voices meant he was doing something right, justifying his decision to move into this larger building.

He’d been about to abandon his depressing act of going over the finances when a feminine voice floated in from outside his office door. He recognized Cassie’s sweet cadence. What was she doing here? Intrigued, he went to investigate.

He certainly hadn’t expected to see her any time soon, if at all. Since the wedding events were over, he figured she’d leave town before they had a chance to reconnect. Yet here she stood, her hair in her signature braid, dressed in a stylish outfit. No wonder he hadn’t recognized her at the wedding.

“Sorry to bother you.” She held up her phone. “My manager.”

He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but heard enough of the conversation to know she was all about her career.

“Can you spare a minute of your time?”

“Sure. C’mon in.”

He gathered the paperwork littering his desk and stuffed it into a file. “I’m actually happy for a distraction.” He took a chair from the corner and placed it beside his desk. “Have a seat.”

She sat, her gaze taking in his office. Pictures of kids he’d worked with adorned one wall. Another displayed framed certificates of appreciation from local businesses. When she met his eyes, he glimpsed the uncertainty there. Guessed he’d be the one to break the ice.

“So, what brings you by today?”

“I’m hoping to talk to you about volunteering here.”

His brow rose. “In what capacity?”

“I was talking to my sister this morning and she told me about Kids’ Klub and all the great things you do for the community.”

“Lauren helped me in the beginning.”

“She said. Thankfully, my sister and I never got into too much trouble, but I have to say, starting a program for at-risk kids is really honorable.” She spread her arms. “So here I am.”

Interesting.

“While it would be easy to simply write a check, I’d like to propose a more personal touch.” A nostalgic expression softened her face. “I used to give music lessons as a way of earning money through college. Piano. Guitar. I love seeing kids get excited when they begin to learn to play a new instrument. So, I’d like to volunteer.”

“Volunteer? Don’t you have a career you’re busy with?”

“Yes, but while I’m here in Cypress Pointe I’d like to be part of your program. You know, something bigger than myself.”

“Cassie, I’ll be honest. I overheard some of your conversation just now. Won’t a concert schedule keep you too busy to be involved here?”

“Oh, I didn’t realize...” She stopped. Composed herself. “It might have sounded like that, but I’m staying in Cypress Pointe for a while.”

“So no running off to concerts just as you start to bond with the kids? They need consistency. People who stick around.”

“I realize that. I remember those angsty teenage years, so I would never intentionally hurt anyone.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll admit, the Klub has lots of needs, including volunteers in time and money. I need you to be sure about a commitment, not thinking about concerts or PR gimmicks.”

“PR? I wasn’t even considering that far in advance. I can do some good and—” A slow smile bloomed over her lips. “You’re a genius.”

“Come again?”

“You just gave me an excellent idea.”

“Which is?”

“How about I give a benefit concert with all the proceeds going to Kids’ Klub?”

Surprised twice in the time span of five minutes. A new record.

“Your offer comes out of the blue.”

“That’s because I just thought of it.” Her expression turned serious. “It would be a great opportunity to raise funds and the kids would have fun, as well. Plus, I’d get some musical time with you.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Say yes. The idea is win-win for Cypress Pointe and the Klub.”

He propped his elbows on the desk and steepled his hands under his chin, quickly doing the math. One concert with Cassie could set the Klub up for at least a year if he was wise with his spending. Or it could be enough for a down payment on the property. His mind went over all scenarios, returning to his initial gut reaction.

Cassie had a career and he knew how consumed some artists could be in that business. He remembered that she’d shown promise on her first album, then appeared to change her style to chase the charts with her second. Would a benefit concert for Kids’ Klub just be a media event for her? A chance to grab the spotlight in the guise of helping a good cause? He didn’t want that type of tabloid exposure if it was only meant to advance her career.

“I see the benefits for the Klub. What do you get out of the deal?”

A puzzled frown marred her forehead. “Who says I need anything from it?”

“Because I’ve been in that world, Cassie. I know how the PR machine works.”

She avoided his gaze for a second too long before scooting forward in her chair. “Luke, I love to perform live. It’s how I made my way before the studio work.” Her eyes sparkled. “I also love Cypress Pointe. My sister, mom and her husband live and work here. It’s the place I return to when I need a break from the craziness of this business. I’m sure you understand.”

He did. All too well. “What about your schedule? Can you make the time?”

Pain flashed in her eyes before going flat. Pain? Where had that come from? She’d been downright excited moments before.

“I don’t have to be back to LA for a few weeks.”

“Planning a concert is a big undertaking.”

“I know, but it won’t take much to figure out the logistics. Since it’ll be a local event, we can pull it together in no time. The only hitch is that the guys I usually play with will probably be busy, but I’m hoping Sandy Palms can fill in.”

Had he heard her right? “You want my band to play with you?”

“Sure. You sounded great at the reception. It may take a couple practice sessions for us to mesh, but they’re your friends. I can’t imagine them turning you down since it’s for a good cause.”

“You’d really do this for us?”

“Why not?”

Why not indeed? As much as Luke tried, the cynical part of him kept wondering if after all was said and done, she’d let them down. Last night she’d tried to engage him in conversation that was definitely headed to a place he didn’t think he’d like. His past career. Eons and miles from the present.

He looked at her now, with that earnest expression and the hopeful curve of her pink lips. Not wanting to believe this was some sort of trap, he tried to push past the reservations hindering his decision. He’d hate to see Cassie, or anyone, for that matter, use Kids’ Klub for their personal agenda. That’s how much the program meant to him.

Before he could give Cassie an answer, a knock interrupted them. Denny, one of the teen volunteers, bounded in, his dark hair spilling over his forehead, his glasses slightly askew. Tall and lanky, his sneakers skidded on the tile floor as he came to an abrupt stop. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you were busy.”

“What have I said about knocking?”

“We need to respect each other’s space,” he replied in mock exasperation. “I get it, Mr. H., but I need the key to the art room. Lizzy forgot her paints and needs them for art class tomorrow.”

Luke opened the top drawer to his desk, removed a key ring and tossed it to Denny.

Denny caught it midair. “Thanks. And sorry, again.” He took a step, stopped and twirled around. “Hey, do I know you?”

Cassie smiled. “I’m a musician.”

He noted she didn’t call herself star. Props for her.

Denny pushed his glasses more securely on to his nose. “Cassie Branford, right? My friend Erin listens to your music.”

“You’re correct.”

“I heard some of the kids say your family lives in town.” He frowned. “I’m not real familiar with your songs. I’m more of an opera fan.”

Cassie blinked and glanced at Luke.

“I know, most kids his age don’t have a clue.”

“It’s my grandma’s fault,” Denny explained. “She raised me on the stuff.”

“There’s nothing wrong with opera,” Cassie rushed to assure him. “It’s an acquired taste.”

“Which usually skips teenagers,” Luke deadpanned.

“Yeah, my friends think it’s odd, but before long I’ve got them listening. Some of ’em actually like it.”

“Good for you,” Cassie said.

Denny gripped the keys in his hand. “I’ll bring these back when we’re finished.”

Luke nodded as Denny hustled out the door.

“Interesting young man.”

“He is. I’ve known him since he was a freshman. He was one of the first students to try out the program.”

“Troubled home life?”

“If you call having a family who loves you trouble.” He chuckled. “No, it might have been because he was bullied when he was younger. He’s never admitted it, but I can see the signs. Once he heard about the concept for the Klub, he tagged along and has been an integral part ever since.”

“He must be an amazing young man.”

“He’s getting there. Now, back to the subject at hand.”

“I can see you’re not convinced,” Cassie said.

“I got the distinct impression you were trying to ask me something the other night. Does this offer have anything to do with that?”

“Busted.” She sighed. “Yes. I might as well be honest. I do want to volunteer here, no matter what your answer to my next question is, so keep that in mind.”

“I know I’m going to regret it, but, what do you need to be honest about?”

As she bit her lower lip, Luke couldn’t ignore the rush of attraction. Cute and conflicted. Her hair shone under the fluorescent lighting, highlighting the bright pink streak. Her skin, so luminous, had him itching to trace his fingers over it. And those unforgettable eyes. His downfall so far.

“I have a deadline coming up,” she went on to say. “I have to be back in the studio in three months. Problem is, I have no new material.”

“That’s a problem.”

“No kidding.” She pulled her braid over her shoulder and tugged at it. “I can’t come up with any new songs. You might not know this, but my last album was a bomb.”

He’d heard.

“I have writer’s block. No matter what I do, I can’t come up with anything new. No sparks. No inspiration. Nothing.”

So here it was. The real reason behind her altruism.

In the music industry, Luke knew how devastating writer’s block could be. He’d never experienced it, but had friends who’d agonized because of it, usually after a big blow, like a bad album. He could sympathize, even though he didn’t live in that world any longer, but he found his back up at her request. He could agree to most anything but songwriting.

“So you want, what, help? Suggestions?”

“At this point all I know is that my career will definitely suffer if I can’t snap out of this—” she wiggled her hand in the air “—whatever it is.”

The music business could be fickle at times. One day you were a star, another a has-been.

“I’m hoping being around you and the Klub might kick-start my muse.” She lowered her eyes for a moment, then met his gaze, a captivating grin making his chest squeeze. “No pressure or anything.”

Cassie’s look got to him. He didn’t want to be the guy she pinned her hopes on and who let her down. Or have her get involved only to have her muse show up and then she’d leave him in the lurch. His focus was on troubled kids, not a pretty songwriter who’d lost her way. He glanced at her again. Those green eyes always managed to trip him up. She bit her lower lip again, anticipating his answer.

“If I said I can’t make any promises will you still do the concert?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

He knew he was digging a hole for himself, but if this wasn’t a publicity stunt and truly a chance to aid his kids, then he might be willing to give her pointers. Still, he’d closely watch her actions after the concert. One sign that she was playing him and he’d sever ties between them. “Then what do you say we plan this concert and go from there?”

At her relived burst of breath, he cringed and forcefully told himself he was agreeing in order to keep the Klub going.

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