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But he wanted her too much to be selfless, or to allow himself to think about the future.
Just then, his phone beeped. His heart leaped when he saw her name on the screen. He almost felt as though he had conjured her from the sheer force of his desire to hear from her.
I’ll be free by 5:30. If you can come back to my cottage tonight, we can talk then.
He’d never been so glad to hear from anyone. So even though he was almost positive she was going to tell him to take a flying leap tonight, the knowledge that he would soon see her face again put a new spring in his step as he headed off to pick up his van.
Luck was on his side again when the man selling him the van didn’t have the first clue who he was, just like his landlady. All the guy wanted was to make the transaction and get on with his day.
Nash put the keys for the old VW van onto the Empress Sisi key chain Ashley had bought him in Vienna. He could have easily purchased a new tricked-out van for six figures. But new and shiny wasn’t what he was after.
The engine barely turned over, and all of the upholstery needed to be yanked out and taken to the dump. Fixing this vehicle up and turning it into something enjoyable not just to drive, but also to camp in overnight, would be a labor of love.
Love.
It was funny how often that word popped into his head lately.
He’d written love songs before, but they’d always been about other people’s lives. Never about his own.
Many of his songs were, at their core, about feeling like a man on an island, alone and searching for something he couldn’t quite explain. He’d long thought that was why so many people related to his music. Everybody felt like a man or a woman on an island at some point in their lives. Of course, he’d also written plenty of songs about having a good time, and fans around the world loved to sing and dance to those songs.
But a love song that came from his own heart?
No, he hadn’t written one of those.
Shoving away the uncomfortable thoughts, Nash refocused his attention on the van. He needed to head to a hardware store and buy tools.
An hour later, he had made the local hardware store owner’s day by buying up what seemed like half his inventory. Jim had known who he was, unlike the seller of the van and his landlady. But the guy had been cool about it. He hadn’t asked Nash for an autograph. Instead, he’d told Nash to let him know if there was something else he needed once he got to work on the van.
Nash had a feeling the two of them were going to get to know each other very well during the next two weeks. He could still remember how many times at sixteen he’d been in the middle of working on something in his van and suddenly realized he needed a different size of screw or drill bit or plumbing tube.
Hungry again, he stopped off at a seaside restaurant that was little more than a waterside stand selling lobster rolls. Yet again, the person behind the counter took Nash’s presence in stride. He hadn’t felt this free since Vienna, and he didn’t have to wear a disguise here.
He ordered two lobster rolls and enjoyed them more than he’d enjoyed anything he’d eaten in a very long time. They tasted better than the Michelin-starred meal he’d had in Switzerland three days ago.
And that was when Nash suddenly had to wonder—did the people who lived in Bar Harbor have it better than a worldwide superstar with money to burn and the entire world at his feet?
CHAPTER NINETEEN
When Nash pulled up in front of Ashley’s cottage at 5:25 p.m., he was surprised to see Ashley and Kevin standing on the front porch, a duffel bag and backpack lying on the wooden floor between them. She was on her cell phone, and she looked upset.
Nash’s gut tightened. He hated seeing her upset. And when he looked more closely at Kevin and realized the boy was barely holding back tears, Nash’s gut clenched even tighter.
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to guess who was causing the problem. Kevin’s crap father.
Josh.
Nash got out of the van and caught the tail end of Ashley’s message. “Call me as soon as you get this message, Josh. Kevin has been really looking forward to this trip.”
She shoved her cell into her pocket as Nash walked up the porch steps. “Hi, Nash,” she said in a distracted voice. “I know we were supposed to meet tonight, but we’ve got a bit of a problem here.”
“Hi, Ashley. Hi, Kevin.” He looked between their downcast faces, wanting to make them feel better any way he could. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
