Page 20 of That One Touch

When they’d had a band before, their rehearsals always took place in the studio at the back of their parents’ property, and there was no reason to change that now. Pres, Marley, and Hendrix had practically grown up in the place. Pres had learned how to mix music before he could even write. It felt like home in a way that no other place ever did.

They’d chosen not to have auditions there because it felt wrong to have a troop of unknown people through his parents’ backyard when they both preferred their privacy.

Not that there was a troop of people. He hadn’t lied to Cassie about that. Hartson’s Creek and the surrounding areas weren’t exactly full of keyboardists waiting for their big break.

Pres arrived at his parents’ house at seven. Delilah was clutching his hand as he walked into the rehearsal room. His mom had offered to watch her, but she’d insisted on coming in to say hello to her Uncle Marley and Alex first.

Although he suspected that the person she actually wanted to see was Cassie.

“Is she here?” Delilah asked, peering around as the door closed behind them.

Marley looked up from where he was adjusting his drum kit. “Who?”

“Cassie, silly.” She rolled her eyes. Damn, his daughter was getting sassy. He hated to think what she’d be like once she hit the teenage years.

“You calling me silly?” Marley asked, grinning because everybody knew he had the biggest soft spot for his niece.

Delilah looked at Pres. He lifted a brow at her.

“No,” she said.

“That’s funny, because I swear I heard you say it.” Marley stood and started walking over to her. And then he swooped her up into his arms and she giggled. “Am I silly now?” he asked her, swinging her through the air.

“No!” She was laughing louder, almost hiccupping.

“Am I now?” he asked, throwing her and catching her again.

“You’re not silly, you’re not silly.” Another hiccup laugh. “Put me down.”

He winked and swung her down to the floor. “She’ll be here in five minutes.”

“Can I wait, Daddy? Please?”

“Sure. Just try not to touch anything, okay?”

He was setting up the microphones when the door opened and Cassie walked in. She was wearing jeans and a black tank under a white shirt, but damn she knew how to rock them. The woman was so light on her feet she looked like she was dancing even when she was walking.

The tank was knotted at her midriff, revealing her tanned stomach. Something in him tightened.

He ignored it.

“Miss Cassie!” Delilah ran over to her, a huge smile pulling at her lips. “It’s me. Delilah. You’re playing with my daddy’s band.”

Cassie’s eyes met his. It felt like a fist was trying to punch his stomach.

“I know. I’m excited,” Cassie said to Delilah. “Do you play with the band, too?”

Delilah giggled. “No. I’m just allowed to listen.”

“For ten minutes. Then Grammy is taking you home to get ready for bed,” Pres reminded her.

“I could stay for the whole thing,” Delilah said. “And be your audience. I’ll give you my honest poninium.”

“Opinion,” he corrected, trying not to laugh at her hopeful expression. “And no, you can’t. You need your sleep.”

Knowing she was defeated, Delilah nodded.

“We set the keyboard up over there,” Marley said, nodding at the stand. “Come over and we’ll adjust it.”

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