Page 59 of California Love Songs
Wow. I have it bad.
As the first number opened, his worries melted away. He’d spent a decade traveling the globe, entertaining millions, meeting beautiful and interesting women. But he’d never felt so right as he did at this moment, with a group of brilliant jazz musicians, and the woman he loved sitting close by watching him.
The woman he loved.
His fingers nearly stumbled over the keys. He’d finally found the woman he wanted to wake up with every morning, the woman he wanted to wrap his arms around when he drifted off to sleep every night.
Of all the things he’d imagined for his future, this wasn’t one of them. His only regret was that he’d wasted so much time. But maybe he hadn’t. Maybe this was the journey they were meant to take. From friends to lovers.
As the music continued, he allowed himself to be swept along in its flow, enjoying the intimate crowd. Every now and then he glanced over at Crystal to see her smile of enjoyment, happily chatting with the wives. He wondered what they were talking about. It didn’t seem to matter. They were laughing like old friends.
He’d never felt so content.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Crystal sat in the darkened jazz club among a wonderful group of women who were all there to support the men they loved. She couldn’t keep her eyes off Damien. He looked so right up there. Completely at home behind someone else’s keyboard. Ever since she’d known him, she’d admired the way he could pick up pretty much any instrument and, with a bit of practice, master it. But his rock and roll career had put the focus on his guitar and voice, and most people didn’t realize there were so many other instruments he could play.
Over the last ten years, when she’d watched him perform, it had been in bigger and bigger stadiums to bigger and bigger crowds. She’d seen him live plenty of times, and sometimes caught his shows when they were televised. She’d seen how he owned Wembley Stadium in London, Maracanã Stadium in Rio de Janeiro, and the Tokyo Dome. She knew all his songs almost as well as he did. It was as though the lyrics were imprinted on her heart.
And because she knew him so well, she understood that, over time, he had created the persona of Damien Davenport the Rock Star. This gorgeous, slightly aloof, clean-living music machine. The man who toured endlessly, eschewed interviews, and turned every woman weak at the knees with his raw, soulful voice and truthful lyrics that felt like they cut to the very heart of you. She was, of course, still attracted to this version of him. But when he was with his family and friends, just being Damien, the second youngest Davenport sibling who loved music… that was when she admired him the most.
He’d always been Erin’s brother on whom she’d had a secret crush. Now that crush was not so secret.
But watching him tonight, she saw yet another version of Damien Davenport. One that was completely new, even to her. This Damien was more humble, and so sincere in his new pursuit that it made her heart melt. He didn’t own the jazz club, didn’t even particularly stand out on stage—not in the way he usually dominated a space. And yet there was something magnetic about him—, even as she could see how much he held back, respecting the other musicians with their years of experience and greater knowledge of jazz. Still, he fit seamlessly into their group, instantly becoming part of a team making music together. She could see how they in turn respected him. She didn’t think these guys cared that he could sell out Madison Square Garden or that he was so wealthy he probably didn’t even know how much money he had. Their respect was based on what he brought to the music tonight.
When an older gentleman began to sing, Damien and the drummer harmonized. It was funny and charming to see him take a backseat to another singer. And so intimate to witness him trying out something new, learning a different part of his craft, and most of all, being bold enough to do it on a stage in front of other people. She suspected that most of the people in the club knew perfectly well who he was. But they were here for jazz, not a celebrity. Their attention was on the music. She could only imagine how cool that must be for Damien, who accepted his fame because it had allowed him to pursue his passion, not because it had ever been part of his dream.
And so, as the evening progressed, Damien visibly relaxed and she could see he was having the time of his life. He’d been open with her about how he’d wanted to make a change, maybe not push himself so hard touring and playing shows with his band, or make so many albums so often. And she had doubted him. She really had thought he was just dreaming, that he’d never be able to leave his nomadic and crazy-busy lifestyle behind. But now, watching him play jazz piano, she realized it was possible for him to take a different path and be perfectly happy. Truly happy, even.
And maybe, just a little, she began to hope that he really would stick around. That he’d choose to make Carmel his true home again.
Her heart began to beat double time as she imagined a world where Damien resisted touring and stayed here, near her, and the rest of his family. There was nothing stopping him from recording in his own studio and coming down to the jazz club when he wanted to play for people. It would be a more modest life. Was he capable of it?
He’d said he’d wanted to stay put for a while and she hadn’t believed him.
Had she just been afraid to accept that this could actually work?
Her forehead wrinkled in a thoughtful frown as she remembered how at dinner she’d bluntly told him this was just a fling. She’d regretted those words almost as soon as they came out of her mouth. Her stomach dropped as she recalled how shocked and disappointed he’d looked. Like she had really wounded him.
Even so, he hadn’t argued with her. He’d taken it so lightly, that well, this is the best fling I’ve ever had so bittersweet. Now she realized how disappointed she was that he hadn’t argued. Hadn’t told her she was wrong, that what they had was more than just a fling. It was far, far deeper. Sexy and intense and fun, but underpinned with true friendship. It was everything she could have hoped for in a relationship.
But she’d known what she was getting into when she let him into her bed. Or rather, when she had climbed into his in the middle of the night. So, she wouldn’t throw a dramatic scene about what they were or could be. When he eventually told her it was over, she’d have known the score all along and expected nothing more. It wouldn’t be easy. Her heart would break into little pieces. But she’d experienced heartbreak before when her father up and left the family. She would find a way through. And so no matter what sadness lay ahead of her, she wouldn’t give up this time with him for anything.
She loved him. She really did. And if their love story was to end with this brief but beautiful fling, she would have to be okay with it.
It was after midnight when they left. Damien held her hand as they walked out of the club as though it was the most natural thing in the world. He waited until they had driven some distance before he glanced at her and said, “Well, I’m almost frightened to ask. What did you think?”
She reached over and put her hand on his thigh, squeezing it gently. “I thought you were amazing. I loved seeing this other side of you. You were softer, more thoughtful somehow. Still so talented, even though you were completely out of your comfort zone. Thank you for sharing it with me.”
He nodded, listening and seeming to take her words seriously as he kept his gaze on the road. “I feel more thoughtful. I have to concentrate more. But man, I love it. I love playing with those guys. A couple have been making music longer than I’ve been alive. I hope that when I’m eighty, I’m still jamming in some club somewhere.”
She laughed softly. “I bet you will be.”
At a traffic light, he turned and his eyes gleamed in the dark. “So I know it’s late, but can I tempt you to come to my place?”
She leaned back into the leather seat and looked at him from under her lashes. He didn’t need to know that she’d brought some clean underwear, her toothbrush, and a small makeup case. “I would love that.”
His eyes held hers. “I would too.”
