Page 12 of Love Song, Take Two

Before he could respond, he heard Emery whining. “You’re not going to embarrass me, right?”

“What do you take me for, huh?” a husky voice said and goosebumps exploded across his arms. First, I see her smile. Now I hear her voice. What the fuck? “So have you decided what you’re going to learn?”

“The drums, duh.”

“Of course,” Emery’s mother said, a warm laugh filtering through the whole store. “All right, so where’s this Mr. Kelley you’re so excited about?”

Fletcher straightened his clothes and glasses, then walked to the front of the store ready to introduce himself. Benson was already there, shaking Emery’s mom’s hand when he stepped around the corner. Then the woman turned to face him and his heart stopped.

My mermaid.

His memories didn’t do justice to the woman standing in front of him. She’d always been deliciously curvy, soft in all the right places. While her hair was much shorter now, the curls were still thick and dark. The nose ring that had once been slightly bent out of shape was now thicker and her eyes were so much brighter. He couldn’t help look her over—a wide necked long sleeved black top hugged her chest and arms, paired with a green skirt that had an uneven hem that ended at her calves and white sneakers.

Fuck, she’s still the best thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.

“Mick.”

Her eyes widened slightly and she swallowed, gaze roving all over his body. “Fletch.”

Fuck, that nickname still gets me.

“You know Fletcher Kelley?” Emery squealed, snapping him out of the filthy thoughts his brain was about to embark on.

“Yeah, we…uh…met…”

“We met sixteen years ago when I was on tour,” he quickly added, unable to look away from the woman in front of him.

“Wow, you two are old.” Emery laughed, the sound following her as she walked away.

Fletcher didn’t care if she stayed or if they had an audience, because all he could focus on was Mick. Now it made sense why Emery’s smile had seemed so familiar, she looked so much like her mother. Then another thought entered his mind, panic squeezing his heart so tight.

“Is she mine?”

“What?” Mick’s eyes got even wider.

“Emery, is she mine?”

“That’s the first thing you say to me after all these years. Really?”

He pinched his eyes shut and shook his head. Memories of that night assaulting his brain—stripping each other naked, sex in the shower, sex on the couch, their hands wandering and gripping, foil wrappers strewn across the floor.

“We ran out of condoms that night,” he whispered.

She nodded, that familiar blush creeping up her neck. “Took the morning after pill on my way home the next day.”

Fuck. The fist around his chest loosened and he let out a shaky breath. He’d never really been interested in kids or thought of himself as father material. But if Mick had been pregnant with his child, Fletcher would have wanted to know. At the same time, the twinge that she wasn’t his surprised him.

“I would have told you if she was yours. You know that, right?”

“I know. Fuck, I’m sorry, that was…I shouldn’t have assumed.” He rubbed his forehead with a sigh before looking at her again. “You look good, Mick.”

“Actually, it’s Micah,” she countered, watching him curiously. “What are you doing here, Fletch?”

Micah. “I live here.”

“Since when?”

He smiled at the tone, all fire and moxie, like that night. “Been in and out of town since Hank died. Officially a resident since about April,” he explained.

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