Chapter Seven
Nash plugged in his amplifier, hooked his guitar strap around his neck and closed his eyes. He counted off a beat and began to play.
His fingers traveled over the strings, the notes of his most famous guitar solo from the Spectre World Tour filled the cottage, rattled the windows and vibrated through every floorboard, but in his mind he was back in France, Germany or even Los Angeles, in a filled stadium full of fans clapping along to the rifts that made him famous.
He lost himself. The music took him away to another time, another place. Things were simple when all he had to do was get up on stage and play. Permanent summertime.
With music, nothing mattered. Not the cottage, not his leg, not the fact he hadn’t seen Petals in four days.
He hit a flat note, stopped and opened his eyes.
Why was he even thinking about a nameless girl he'd met only once?
It was a question he asked himself every time he walked over to the lake, sometimes multiple times a day for fear he would miss her.
After yesterday, when again she proved to be a no show, he decided to stop. He was merely looking for a distraction and being kept away from his goal.
He sighed and glanced around the cottage. Somehow, even with all his treks back and forth to find a girl who didn’t exist or who was only paying him lip service by promising she would return, he managed to get the place cleaned up enough to assess what needed to be repaired. Everything needed to be redone, the floors, the paint, the ceiling.
This was what happened when something was left to rot, a person, a home, anything. It fell apart and it would take a miracle to bring it back together again.
Time didn’t heal—it ravaged everything in its path.
As he set his guitar aside, his cell phone chimed and he slipped the hated device out of his pocket.
Dear Nashville, I need you. I have bills to pay, checkbooks that need to be balanced, and investments that need to be gone through. Where are you? Stop wasting time on that hovel and use the good financial sense you somehow acquired. You need to make it better. Your Mother.
There were too many things wrong with her text. First, the fact she composed every text like a letter, second, she wouldn’t leave him alone, and third, she called herself his mother. He slammed the phone down on the table. Somewhere along the way, he went from guitarist to everyone’s personal financial manager.
Petals had it right when she escaped to the land free of cellular reception. Only a few acres away lay freedom.
He could message back, he could go there and fix the situation, or he could go to the home improvement store and begin stocking up. Only the last option appealed to him. He checked for his wallet and keys, slid his phone back in his pocket, and grabbed his cane.
Once outside, he took a breath. He didn’t message the monster, didn’t call, didn’t even get in his car. In fact, he left his list inside. Without even thinking, he started toward the lake. He swore he was wearing a path, and by the time he snuck through the back gate, he vowed he wasn’t looking for Petals, only going to take in the view over the water before he got to work.
He pushed his way through some overgrown brush leading to the clearing by the lake and stopped.
There she sat on the rock.
His breath caught at the sight of his angel. She returned. She was here. Or the more likely explanation was he was losing his mind. Her back to him, she sat with her head in her hands, her body shaking as if she were crying.
He tossed his cane aside, letting it become hidden among the fallen leaves, and stepped forward, bracing his hand on the tree for extra support. “Petals?”
She turned and faced him. “Knight?” Sure enough, her face was wet, her nose red from crying.
“Why the tears?” His heart sped as he approached their rock. The uneven terrain hid his limp and he somehow managed to take his seat next to her without falling on his face.
She grabbed his hand. “You said you would be here if I needed you, and I came, but you weren’t here.”
Her words provided more music to his ears than his guitar playing. “You need me?” No doubt she planned her visit. Today, she wore curve hugging jeans and a long sleeved pink V-neck shirt giving him a little peek at her copious cleavage and stylish boots that were supposedly made for hiking, but something told him the little gorgeous one didn’t do many outdoorsy things.
Though she still kept hold of him, she turned away. “I came back, didn’t I?”
“Took you four days.” He leaned in, the scent of her shampoo wafted around him, lavender and lilacs. “I know, I came everyday to check. Couldn’t miss my Petals.”
After a pause, she faced him. Her wet, deep brown eyes staring into his. “Every day?”
“Of course.” With his free hand he gently wiped her tears away. Her soft skin warmed him and he felt the weight on his chest lighten a little. “You know what happened today?”
She shook her head.
“Today I told myself I wasn’t going to check, but I couldn’t stop myself, and there you were.” Unless he was hallucinating, his Petals was here and now nothing else seemed to matter. Strange. He didn’t even know her.
“I didn’t know if you were real. I tried to tell myself you weren’t and I tried to stay away, but then today I had to know.” As if to touch him, she reached up, but then stopped, leaving her hand in mid air.
“Go ahead.” He prodded her to act and held his breath.
Her cheeks took on the most amazing red glow. She licked her lips, giving them a little shine, then at last combed her fingertips through his hair. “Oh.”
“May I return the favor?” At her light, innocent touch his whole body heated, he needed to keep himself in check.
“Yes, you may,” she whispered.
“I suppose we would call this a reality check.” With a feather light touch, he brushed her wispy bangs away from her face. “How many people tell you how beautiful you are?”
Her blush intensified. “You’re the first today.”
“So what brought you back here? Something troubling you?” He skimmed his fingertips over her cheek. Dared he say, she leaned into his touch?
“Ever feel like you don’t belong to yourself?” With her question, she tightened her hold on his hand.
He couldn’t stop a laugh. “I think everyone feels that way. Though I think the real issue is who your life belongs to. If you belong to no one, I think life is empty. If you belong to the right person, your life feels like your own, if it’s to the wrong person, you feel owned.”
“That’s it.” She nodded. “It has to be the right person.”
“Someone owning you, Petals?” He glanced down at her hand. There was no ring there, but that didn’t provide a definite answer, as there were many ways one human could own another and not be married or engaged, something he knew first hand.
“All my life.” She scooted in closer to him. “Nothing feels right until now and I don’t really even know you.”
“I think the fact you came back here tells you all you need to know about me.” He took his chance and pulled her a bit closer.
“Why do I feel safe with you?” Her voice took on a faraway tone.
“Maybe because I don’t want anything from you except this.” He nudged her head down on his shoulder and wrapped his arms around her.
When she relaxed, let her body melt against his, he closed his eyes. He didn’t remember the last time the simple act of holding someone was satisfying. If he rewound his memories five, ten years, he couldn’t remember the last time he and Laura sat in easy silence together. Last time he saw her, their silence was laced with finality, a goodbye he didn’t want to hear.
“Knight.” Her soft voice brought him back to the here and now. For the first time in a long time, it was a much better place than the then and gone.
“Yes, Petals.” He stared out on the water.
“Maybe we need a more definite meeting time.” She toyed with the skull ring on his finger, twisting and turning it and giving him an incredible case of welcomed shudders.
Her asking for a schedule meant she was coming back. “I think that would be a good idea.”
“If I told you I would be back on Saturday, right around this time, would you be here?” she asked.
“Are you asking me out on a date?” He couldn’t stop a smile.
Her eyes narrowed and she lifted her chin. “Knight or not, I don’t do the asking.”
The fire in her words and expression stirred him. “Remember who came here.”
Now her lower lip pursed out, perfect to take a taste, but he needed to resist such a tempting treat.
“If I asked you out would you accept?” He had to tease her a little bit.
“Are you?” Petals straightened up.
What would going out on a date with her be like? In a normal setting, would they have done the restaurant, club thing then ended up back at her place where he would have his way with her? Maybe this was better. “I’m asking you to come here and meet me on Saturday right here, same time.”
“I was picturing more of an exchange of cell phone numbers, a real name, and a destination other than a rock.” Her voice took on the authority of a CEO.
All right, she wanted more, and she would have accepted a date. At present, he had to keep things this way. Once she figured out who he was their relationship would change. He wanted to be Knight a little bit longer, see what developed. “I think a destination is what you make of it. What if I promise you a date you’ll never forget right here?”
She paused, and he tensed. What if he lost her? Did he give in and reveal all? He wasn’t ready.
“Maybe it’s time to try something new.” A smile fluttered over her lips. “I accept your invitation.”
Once more, he wrapped his arms around her, and together they looked out over the lake. Also, he had no idea if she belonged to someone else, even if it were for the wrong reasons. No doubt she was enchanted with Knight, but Nash the wounded rock star may not fit her.