Page 50 of Falling for the Guy Next Door

We reached her door. “An adorable baby bird,” I said.

This time I didn’t need to reach for her. She wrapped her arms around my neck. “Thank you, again, for walking me home, and next time we meet I’ll try to be more rested.”

“I was hoping we could see each other tomorrow. I’ve got a meeting with the rest of the band in the morning at their rental house. We’ve got lots of details to work out for shutting everything down. It’s technically a business. ‘Band’ just sounds way cooler.”

“I don’t think you’d have as many fans if you were lead singer of a business. I’m going on a bike ride in the morning, so I guess after you get back, we can get together.”

“Sounds good.” I kissed her. “Sleep tight and I hope I’m in a few of those dreams.”

“Oh, I think you will be, Mr. Ledger.” She opened her door, turned and blew a kiss before disappearing inside.

I headed back across. I’d decided to record my new song and post it on social media for the heck of it. I was wide awake still, so tonight seemed as good a time as any. I’d tell the band about it in the morning. I looked back at Layla’s cottage before shutting my door. Rocky barked once.

“Yep, buddy, I’ve got it bad, too.”

ChapterTwenty-Nine

Layla

It was what Nonna would have called a glorious morning and not one for pouting or complaining. That was usually her way of telling the five of us to get out into the fresh air. I’d talked Emily into taking a bike ride down to the marina and back. The mild temperatures had settled in over the cove, and that always added energy to an already frenzied summer weekend. We pedaled down the bike lane through town. There were plenty of other riders in the lane. The bike rental shop on the marina would have had a line early this morning, and as we pedaled past the kiosk, Dave, the guy who ran the stand during spring and summer, was sitting reading a magazine. His bike racks were empty. He waved as Emily and I rode past.

The marina was bustling with activity, too. Lots of pleasure boats had moored in the public slips for the weekend, and there were at least a dozen boats anchored off shore. Emily finally found the space to ride up next to me as we rolled slowly down the wharf that connected to the marina. The fish and chips kiosk had opened early, and the smell of battered, deep-fried fish smacked into us as we passed. We reached the part of the wharf where the wooden planks were too rough and splintery to ride over. I pulled out my lock, and we secured our bikes to one of the bike racks.

Emily and I walked toward the slips. On weekends, there were always glossy, expensive pleasure boats to admire. “Oh, look at that one.” Emily pointed to a boat that was long and sleek enough to be categorized as a yacht. “I could see myself stretched out on the sunning deck with a fancy cocktail in my hand and one of the deckhands fanning me. And, of course, the deckhand would look just like Chris Hemsworth.”

“Of course.”

“I suppose that’s not such a big daydream for Isla.” Emily looked over at me. “Does Luke have a yacht? Other than his fancy electric car, I’ve never seen any of the goodies that come with being a billionaire.”

“That’s because Luke is one of those cool, understated billionaires. I don’t think he likes all the fussy trappings that come with being obscenely rich. I’m sure his family probably has a yacht parked somewhere in the world.”

“That’s what I’ve heard. People have those yachts, and they only leave the harbor once every few years. What a waste. I’d be sailing that thing up and down the coast just to go shopping.”

“You know, Emi, I believe you would do exactly that.”

“What’s happening with the wedding plans?” She asked me the same question every time, but she knew darn well I was sworn to secrecy. Isla wanted to keep everything under wraps until we got closer to the date and until plans were firmed up. I was sure it was mostly because marrying Luke Greyson meant having to avoid nosy reporters, and the last thing she wanted was her future mother-in-law to hear about plans through the media.

“You know that’s top secret, Emi, but if it goes the way Isla is leaning, it’s going to be fabulous.”

“I can’t wait.” Emily grabbed my arm. “I will be invited, won’t I? I’m counting on meeting some of Luke’s rich, single friends. It’s a good thing neither of us are dating anyone right now. The two of us should absolutely show up without dates. Just think, a sea of handsome, rich men all waiting to meet wonderful us. Maybe that yacht dream isn’t so farfetched, after all.”

We stopped at a bench at the end of the marina. It had a fantastic view of the harbor, the jetty and the vast blue Pacific beyond. It truly was a breathtaking day. “It sounds like you’ve finally moved on from Nash Ledger,” I said hopefully. It was the break I’d been waiting for.

“Never. It’s just being amongst all these yachts I allowed myself to dream about marrying a rich man. Unfortunately, I don’t think Nash has much money, and wild, wealth-building fame just doesn’t seem to be in the cards for Moonstone. I mean there’s still a chance. You saw that crowd last night. They’ve got a lot of fans. But since I love him with all my heart, I’d learn to live without the yacht. But just think what it would be like to have a yachtandNash. Wow, that’s my new dream.”

I slumped against the back of the bench. I was sure she’d finally lost interest in Nash. She normally had a short attention span when it came to her newest obsession, but not this time, apparently. It seemed I’d have no choice but to tell her my news. And now was as good a time as any. I sat up straighter and took a few deep breaths to gather some courage. All I got was the salty taste of the sea and that darn fried fish. Before I could say one word, Emily’s phone buzzed.

She pulled it out of her pocket. “It’s from Kelly,” she said with little enthusiasm. She put the phone back.

“Aren’t you going to look at it?” I asked, obviously glad for the delay on my confession.

“I’m sure she’s just going to complain about something stupid.” Her phone beeped again.

“Seems like it’s something important.” I hadn’t gathered enough courage yet.

“Fine. I’ll bet she’s going to tell me that the sky is far too blue this morning to enjoy the weekend.” She was laughing at her prediction as she opened the text. “Hmm, she’s asking if I saw the new Moonstone song. That’s right. There’s supposed to be a new song.” She tapped on the link, and a video popped up. “Looks like it was filmed on a phone.” She tapped it. “Nash is playing his guitar sitting on a couch. Must not have been done in a studio like some of their other videos.”

Nash’s deep voice came rolling through the phone. “Copper hair and a smile that melts my heart. Couldn’t love you more.” I froze. Was the song about me? Would Emily notice those first two words? Copper hair? The song was good. Really good. It was a pretty big ego boost to believe it was written about me.

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