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“Mr. and Mrs. Heath.” Ryan shook the man’s hand. Apparently dark glasses and a ball cap didn’t stop old friends from recognizing you. He leaned down and kissed the soft cheek of the woman at his side.
“How long has it been, Ryan? Fifteen years?” Walt asked, rocking back on his heels.
“Eleven, I think,” Ryan said, digging his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he studied the couple before him. They’d helped raise Ryan and Hope. Spent time with them, taught them to dance, and made them do their homework when their mother was working. They’d been adopted grandparents. Walt’s face had more lines and his hair would now rival Santa Claus’s. Lizzie too had a few more lines, but for all that they looked as spritely as ever.
“I heard things are going well for you,” Lizzie said in a massive understatement, and with that sweet smile she’d always had. Ryan remembered the times she’d hugged him or kissed something better. Funny, he hadn’t thought about that in years either.
“They are going well thanks,” Ryan said shooting a look around them, he didn’t see anyone stopping to stare, so clearly his disguise was working on them.
“Well, you come on home for some baking, and I want to see those moves of yours that I caught a time or two on the TV.” Lizzie squeezed his hand. “Hope will be pleased you’re back, as will your mother. Especially with the arrival due any day.”
“They’re both in Brook, according to my sources. I’m sure they will be back soon.”
“Lovely.” With another pat on his hand, they turned to leave.
“Nice for Militant to have a break from her protesting.” Walt called the words over his shoulder.
“What is she protesting about now?” Ryan asked. His mother had always been on some crusade when he was younger.
“I’m sure she’ll fill you in, dear,” Lizzie said. “See you later.”
Ignoring the buzz of the cell phone in his pocket, Ryan crossed the street, pushing Lizzie’s words about his mother aside. Millicent Lawrence was always angry about something. He wandered down to the lake as his phone buzzed again. Pulling it out, he saw it was the band’s manager. Ryan let it go to voicemail.
Once he reached the edge of the lake, he dropped to his haunches and touched the water, letting his eyes wander over the rippling surface. A fresh breeze slid over him, and he inhaled another deep breath.
The air was different here. Clearer, cleansing somehow.
He hadn’t thought he’d missed this place until right now. But looking around him, he realized that maybe he had. Maybe seeing it through the eyes of an adult and not a resentful, restless boy was causing that.
Lake Howling had been a light and dark place inside him.
Be careful what you wish for.His mother had said those words to him the day he’d left Howling, having received a scholarship at Berklee College of Music in Boston. He’d been determined to find a better life. Well, she’d been right in that. He’d got what he wished for and more. He had to be happy with that.Didn’t he?
Lately, he’d wondered if it was more than he wanted. He enjoyed the music, but the rest was so much more than that. The fans, the lifestyle. Sometimes he just wanted to step off the crazy train and take a breath.
Pushing up the sleeves of his sweater, he dipped his hands in the ice-cold water. Water he’d swum, skied, and kayaked all over.
Home.
Chapter 3
“They’ll drop off if you keep them in there for too long.”
He took a few more seconds to enjoy the peace, then turned to face the inevitable photo opportunity or autograph. It was part of his life. He knew it went with the territory of being a success—after all, without fans then he wouldn’t have a career—but he was about as comfortable with it as a wet cat.
Rising, he turned.
“If I’d known it was you, I wouldn’t have said anything,” the brunette muttered.
“Hello again, Faith.” Her eyes still looked red, but she was in control now.
She’d been the first girl he’d fallen hard for. She’d developed early, which had helped his adoration. But with age that body had simply changed into a work of art. He wondered if she was still a fitness freak. Even as a teenager she’d loved to be on the move. Walking, running, playing ball with her brother. She’d pretty much done it all.
“So, we forget about what took place at Hope and Newman’s, and no one needs to know about it,” she snapped.
Faith had attitude, and always had. The fiery Harris twin who stood up for herself and anyone who needed her support. She and Ryan had shared a relationship based on annoying the hell out of each other, which had been odd, because he wasn’t big on talking, but with her it had always been different. Then one day everything between them changed.
He shrugged as if it had been no big deal seeing her lush body wet and naked. “Sure. Like I said, I’d only just opened the door when you turned and gave me an eyeful.”
