Chapter Eight

It was nine o’clock. These were the perils of owning your own business, Tiffany thought as she moved her head from side to side to work out the kinks in her neck.

Claudia had gone home at six o’clock, but men who hadn’t shopped still walked through the front door. Who was Tiffany to tell them she wouldn’t take their money?

Blake’s mother had settled on a nice bracelet and his sisters each a pair of earrings. His credit card was in the cash register, which prompted her to think of him each time she’d made a sale during the day.

She’d locked the door and was securing items under sheets in the cases when there was a knock at the door. Even though she’d been expecting him, she still jumped when she saw Blake standing there.

Collecting herself, she walked to the door, unlocked it, and pulled it open. The brisk night air picked up his scent and sent it slamming into her. His cheeks were red and when he gave her that signature wink, her knees went weak.

“It’s cold out there,” she said as she simply stared at him.

“It is. So can I come in?”

She laughed on a sigh, not even having realized she’d left him standing there.

Tiffany backed up and let him in. He had his guitar on his back and a box in his hand.

“I thought you were picking me up for dinner. Why do you have your guitar?”

“I have a present for you.”

Tiffany locked the door and turned back to him. “A present for me? I only met you four days ago.”

“Why is that too soon for a gift?”

“Because I don’t know you.”

He lifted his head and grinned. “Oh, remember, I said you did.”

“Yes, well…” she stopped as he pulled the guitar case from off his back and set it against a jewelry case. He then shrugged off his leather jacket and set it on the floor next to the guitar.

His hair was pulled back, which she liked. He hadn’t shaved in a few days, which added to his rough exterior. However, she’d learned enough about him to know that it was just that—an exterior. This man had a heart of gold and a love for family that rivaled even the Kellers and Bensons.

Gathering her thoughts, she pushed back her shoulders and crossed her arms in front of her. “So what did you bring me?”

He handed her the square box, wrapped in Christmas paper. “I hope you like it.”

Never having been one to wait and gracefully open a package, she tore into the paper. “It’s a CD.”

“Yeah,” he was smiling not only from his handsome mouth but from his captivating eyes. “It’s not an excuse, but this is why I stood you up. I was working on this and lost track of time.”

“Ah, you’re giving me songs? Like a mixed tape?”

He laughed and shook his head. “I’m giving you your songs.” He stepped closer to her. “I told you. You’re my muse. I could take over the song world with you right here with me.”

“Right.” She took a step back to distance them. “What does that mean exactly?”

“It means that you get under my skin, in the most amazing way. I think of you and a melody starts. I imagine your hair and a chorus just creates.”

“So I make this magic happen for you? And you want me around for that reason?”

“Yes.”

“I hang around and you write. I get stood up and you record. Sounds lovely.”

He shook his head. “It’s not like that. It’s not what I meant. Warner said the same thing happened to him when he met Clara.”

Tiffany’s heart hitched. She remembered it so clearly. Warner had heard Clara sing from her car at a stop light. He followed her to the theater where she was performing a musical and sat through rehearsal. A love story began to brew from that moment on and it had even prompted them to run away to Las Vegas and get married. It was so unlike anything any Keller had ever done, but Clara had. She’d fallen in love and ran off and got married. Now look at them. Warner was a successful musician, and Clara had been until she chose to stay home with their children. Again, her heart hitched, and she caught her breath. What was he trying to tell her?

“Warner and Clara aren’t you and I,” she reminded him.

“I know that. Let me play you one of the songs. I want to share with you what you brought to my life in the past four days.”

She felt the quiver begin in her lip. No, she didn’t want him to sing to her. She didn’t want to want a man who wouldn’t be around. He’d be on the road. There’d be other women—eventually. She’d fail to be his muse and he’d leave.

But she couldn’t find the words to stop him either.

Blake pulled his guitar from the case and flung the strap around his neck.

“I call this one Forever Mine.”

The sigh was audible and her vision blurred as tears welled in her eyes.

Her heart was gone the moment he strummed the first chord.

The words were beautiful and the melody enchanting. It wasn’t like any other song she’d ever heard. She heard his voice quiver as he sang. Did it mean that much to him? Did he really think all those beautiful things about her? About her scarlet hair and her soft, warm heart? The word love resonated in the song—but it was just a song. It didn’t mean anything, did it? What about the word forever? Was that part of his muse infused moment?

When he finished, he lifted his eyes to hers and she wept. It was foolish, but she did it anyway.

“That was beautiful,” she said as she tried to control her voice.

“It’s you. You gave me this gift.” He took the guitar from his neck and set it against the jewelry case behind him. “Warner wants to record all of them.”

“You played them for Warner?”

There was a dimple in his cheek when he smiled with the one side of that sexy mouth. “I did. The CD is him singing all of them.”

“Why don’t you record them?”

He shook his head. “That’s not my gig. I’m not the front man. I make the front man sound good.”

Oh, God! Who was this man? He didn’t have to be in front? Wasn’t that what every musician wanted?

She wanted to tell him he was foolish and that he should perform his work, but she couldn’t. It was simply too beautiful a sentiment to know she’d brought out those feelings in him.

There was only one thing left to do.

Tiffany walked straight to him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and fell in love with the man the moment she let her lips touch his.

Blake gathered her in his arms the moment she pressed herself against him. He’d wanted to do that from the minute he’d stood next to her in Spencer’s kitchen. It was the entire reason he’d left her in the barn. He simply couldn’t justify kissing a woman he’d only met, but he’d thought about it.

Every part of her was soft and feminine he thought as her lips parted to his and her tongue danced with his. Somehow she’d released his ponytail and was running her fingers through his hair. Every part of him tensed as she sent shivers down his spine, which electrified his pulse.

Was it possible to drown in a sea of passion, he wondered as they fought for air and maneuvered to get closer and closer—bodies pressed together harder and harder.

“I guess you liked your Christmas present,” he managed between breaths.

“Best gift ever,” she said adjusting to take the kiss to a whole new level and he felt his body respond.

His fingers gripped into the fabric of her dress and the only thing he could think of was getting it off of her, but not now. Not like this.

He let the kiss roll on before he gathered her hands, which roamed over his chest and made his body temperature spike and his heart beat race.

“We have to stop. The night guard will get a show if we don’t.”

“Your hotel,” she said nipping his lips with another kiss.

“Mom,” was all he could say before he had to take another kiss or he might die, or so he thought.

Eventually the kiss stopped, because they both had to breathe, he decided.

Tiffany raised her eyes to his and he could see exactly what he’d needed to see. It wasn’t the heat of the moment that darkened those green eyes. It wasn’t lust. It wasn’t momentary need. He saw forever in her eyes and that was exactly what he wanted from her. How was he supposed to convince her that after four days—though that was what he’d come to do.

“Come home with me,” she said breathlessly.

How was he going to refuse that? But he had to. “I’m a grown man full of tattoos and leather, but going back to an adjoining hotel room, where my mother will hear me sneak in, really takes out the sexiness of this moment.”

That made her laugh and she eased against him, her head on his chest. How was it this moment was even more seductive than the kisses she’d just planted on him?

“I understand,” she said.

“Tiffany,” he said her name softly and she eased her gaze to him. “I believe in this. Us. Fate. Love at first sight. I believe in it all.”

Her eyes clouded over and the moment was surely lost.

“I believe in lust.” The sexy tone was lost and only flat honesty was left.

“I don’t think that’s true. There’s more to you than that.”

She pulled away. “I can’t believe that this is all that you say it is. Sure, I’ve seen it happen, but it doesn’t happen to me. I’ll get you home and I’ll make love to you and it’ll be over. You’ll go to your next town and I’ll be forgotten. The only part of me left in your life will be the jewelry your mother and sisters wear.”

“That’s not true.” He was reaching for her as she turned away.

“Men don’t think like this. They don’t…”

“Spencer fell in love.”

She narrowed her eyes at him and turned back. “What does that mean?”

“It means your best friend thinks like this. He thought enough of you to share his news about his baby with you first. Men think like this. Spencer’s best friend should find love too.”

Her lips pursed. “That’s different.”

“No. It’s not. Warner and Clara fell in love and ran off and got married.”

“You want to run off and get married?” Her voice rose as if the thought horrified her.

Certainly there wasn’t any reason to tell her what he was really thinking. She wasn’t open minded enough right now, but yes, that’s what he was thinking.

“You’re not listening to me. I believe in something bigger than both of us bringing us together. That’s all.”

“I just don’t know…”

“My parents met on a subway,” he said, changing the subject as he moved to put his guitar back in its case. “My mom saw him reading a paper and she said she fell in love with him the moment she saw him. Her friend dared her to go up to him and kiss him.”

Tiffany’s eyes widened. “And she did?”

“No.” He began to laugh. “He had on a wedding ring.”

“Oh. Your father was married before?”

He shook his head. “It was his father’s ring. He was taking it to the jewelers to get it fixed before his mother found out his father had bent it.”

“How did your mother find out he wasn’t married?”

“She saw him the next day and he didn’t have the ring on. She’d thought about him all night long and thought she’d better take her chance to talk to him while she could. She sat down next to him and asked him about it,” he said as he gathered his jacket and slid his arms through the sleeves. “He told her the story. He said he was heading to the store to pick it up. He invited her along.”

“People meet people on subways all the time. That’s not all that unusual.”

He nodded as he picked up the guitar case and slid his arm through the strap. “She went with him. Before they left the store, he’d bought her a small gold band, proposed to her, and my mother said yes.”

“Why?”

“Because somewhere between the subway and the elevator ride up to the jewelry store she fell in love with him. They were married a week later.”

She covered her heart with her hand. “That’s beautiful.”

“Few kids, few dogs, and a few houses later and they still love each other as if it were new.”

“It’s a fairy tale, Blake. No one can make that happen.”

“You don’t believe in fate and love at first sight?” he asked again.

“It’s all tied to lust. We want each other. I think that part is very clear. Our hearts, however, will get broken in the meantime.”

He nodded again. “I guess you’re right. If you don’t believe in it, it can’t happen.”

Tiffany winced before she turned and walked toward the cash register. She opened it, took out his credit card, and handed it to him. “Before I forget that I have this.”

“Thanks.”

“Why did you really bring your mother into the store?”

He bit down on his lip as he pulled out his wallet and replaced the card. “I wanted her to meet you.”

“That had to be expensive to fly them out here just to meet me and then to buy them jewelry that’s just…”

“I told her I was going to marry you on Christmas,” he interrupted.

Tiffany’s mouth absolutely fell open that time and he couldn’t help but find some satisfaction in her shock.

“You what?” Her voice rose in pitch.

He ran his hand over the whiskers on his cheek. “I told you. I believe in all of this. I felt the earth move the minute I met you. Sitting on Spencer’s couch in the barn—I lost my heart. Singing to you at the Opry sealed the deal. You don’t believe in all of this, though. So I was wrong to think you’d want to marry me.”

“You didn’t ask me to marry you,” she said obviously agitated and now perhaps a bit confused.

“I think it was pretty clear that you don’t think it would work out. My family will understand.” He slung his guitar case over his shoulder. “Maybe it’ll work out next time I’m in town. You just don’t kiss someone like that and then forget what it feels like, Tiffany. I’ll be back, though.”

He tapped his finger against her chin and gave her a wink. Yes, he’d be back.