Page 51 of Free to Believe
“No, that’s when you taste the cake she made. She does this kind of baking for fun.”
I reach for a cinnamon square. Upon taking a bite, I’m assaulted by a burst of brown sugar that melts on my tongue. Swallowing down the miracle on my tongue, I’m hit with an inspiration. “If you don’t know what you want to play, I do.”
“You taking lead?” Brendan grins. It’s so rare for him to not be in front of a stage singing in front of tens of thousands of people, he’s happy to pass the mic off when he’s not on stage.
Swinging an electric bass over my shoulder, I turn on the mic in front of me. “Why the hell not?” I begin playing a familiar bass line.
Soon he’s strumming away. Together, we lose ourselves in Jagger and the Stones. Until we hear Jenna’s feminine screech of “They have the other box down here, Dani!”
Busted.
But when I look toward the door and expect to see the lanky frame of my cousin or my daughter, I’m shocked to see Emily’s amused face staring at the box of baked goods. “Jesus, Corinna said she was sending up a surprise. She should have known better than to entrust it with two men.”
I defend Brendan and myself before he can speak. “Yours is on the kitchen island.”
Leaning out the door, she yells, “Protect the box in the kitchen too, Dani. Those are apparently mine.” The squealing that can be heard from the upper floor assures me they found them. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, we’ll just take what’s left of this box and be out of your hair.”
“Come on, Em,” Brendan teases her. “How long has it been since I sang to you?”
Sang to her? Why do I want to reach over and bash him with my bass? The husky laugh that prompts doesn’t help. “You were singing to Cori, Brendan, not me.”
“I could change that…” Brendan starts strumming on his guitar, but I cut him off.
“If anyone’s going to be singing to our guest, I’ll handle it, buddy.”
Em’s eyebrows shoot skyward. “You can sing?”
Hell yes, I can sing, but I simply shrug. “You?”
The laugher that bursts intrigues me. “Nor hardly. I’m often begged by my family to stop humming whenever I try.” She continues laughing as she walks away, adding another layer of mystery to this complex woman. I’ve never known someone able to laugh at themselves so easily.
“Hey, Em,” I call out. I unplug and quickly walk over.
She turns, and her eyes are still sparkling with mirth. “Yes?”
Hearing Jenna come down the stairs animatedly talking with Dani, I whisper a heartfelt “Thank you.” There are no words to adequately explain what it means to have my daughter back.
“For what?” Confusion mars her perfect features.
“For helping fix something you saw immediately that was broken.” Taking a step closer, I push a wayward curl away from her face. I don’t miss the hitch in her breath. Nor do I miss her struggle to slam down the mask. It’s too bad I’ve seen beneath it.
Now, I’ll keep trying to get to the woman I know who hides behind it.
“I didn’t do anything special,” she protests. Putting distance between the two of us, she insists, “You’re a good father, Jake. I have no doubt about that.”
“Then what is it you doubt?” I’m talking about more than Jenna, and we both know it.
“Me,” she says simply. “I doubt I’m worth the effort. No.” Shaking her head, she continues. “I know it.” Turning away, she calls out, “Did you two abscond with my box? I don’t even know what Cori sent me.”
Darting away from me—probably swifter than she should on her leg—she races away toward the stairs.
I wet my lips. Suddenly, I’m in the mood for a whole different kind of music.
28
Emily
“Can sing a little, my ass,” I mutter a half hour later. Jake Madison is too damn sexy for his own good. An insane girl could fall a little bit in love while sitting in this room. Between him and Brendan singing Imagine Dragons’ hottest new single as Brendan strums away at the guitar and Jake thumbs the bass, I can’t tear my eyes away.
