Page 19 of Rock with You

Carly busied herself picking up the blankets and pillows they’d spread across the living room floor. She started a load of laundry and returned the pillows to the guest bed. When she got back to the living room, Sam had moved the coffee table into place. Now his house looked like it had before she arrived.

And it was time for her to go.

“My manager’s booked me a flight out of here first thing tomorrow,” he said.

Her stomach felt like she’d just gotten off a roller coaster, all tight and queasy. This was really happening. He was going back to LA. He’d be in the recording studio with Tina Torrey, making music together and who knew what else. Ugh. This sucked so much. “These last two days were…Well, they were really amazing. I’ll always remember them.”

He strode across the room and tugged her into his arms. “Amazing would be an understatement.”

“I can’t wait to hear those new songs on the radio,” she whispered over the painful lump in her throat.

“Yeah.” His voice rumbled through her.

She wanted to burrow into the warmth of his embrace and stay there, but that burning sensation behind her eyes meant she’d better get out of here before she did something really stupid like cry in front of him. She pressed her lips to his and kissed him—hard. She closed her eyes, memorizing the feel of his lips and the thrill of his tongue sliding against hers. Then she lifted her head. “Good-bye.”

“Hate that word.” Sam’s mouth quirked, but he dropped his arms from around her.

“Me, too.” She took a step back. “Good luck with everything. I hope you got all the inspiration you needed for your new album.”

“And then some.” He watched her from unreadable blue eyes.

She bent and picked up her purse. Tell me not to go. Beg me to stay. Please…

But he was silent, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, watching her.

She walked to the door and pulled it open. Wait! I don’t want it to end like this…

She glanced over her shoulder. Sam hadn’t moved. She was being ridiculous. They’d only known each other two days, but her heart…

“Bye, Carly.”

She drew a ragged breath. “Bye.”

Then she walked out the door and out of his life.

7

Sam paced the recording studio, scotch in hand. In the control room, his producer, Mac Porter, played back the vocals he’d recorded earlier. The song was called “Pieces of You.” Tina Torrey had written it, a breakup tune that had him singing to a lover he’d left behind.

And it felt awfully fucking real. Every word, every take, he’d been thinking of Carly. He couldn’t close his eyes without seeing her face, remembering the sweet sound of her laughter and the way she felt in his arms.

“This tune is going to be fierce,” Mac said, mixing Sam’s vocals with the sample Tina’s people had sent. She lived outside Nashville. Once they’d both recorded their parts, their vocals would be mixed together to produce the duet. He and Tina likely wouldn’t cross paths until they recorded the music video…if then.

Sam tossed back the rest of his scotch. “Yeah. It’s good.”

“I don’t know what you were channeling while you were singing, but keep it up, man. You’ve got that raw edge back we’ve been missing.”

“Must have been the mountain air,” Sam muttered.

He didn’t leave the studio until somewhere past two in the morning. He was bone tired but buzzing with adrenaline, and so he found himself riding down the Pacific Coast Highway with the top down, letting the ocean breeze whip through his hair.

Wishing it were Carly’s fingers.

He’d walked into a half-dozen different bakeries in the last week. No clue why. He just kept looking for something…something he’d never find here in LA. He’d tasted so many different cinnamon buns, he’d almost lost his taste for them.

None of them tasted half as sweet as Carly’s.

He missed the way her eyes crinkled when she laughed. The way she got so adorably flustered when she’d first recognized him that afternoon in A Piece of Cake. The way she looked past all the bullshit in his life to see what mattered.

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