Page 24 of Moonlit Hideaway
“Come with me.” He traced a tear trailing down her cheek. “It doesn’t matter what people say. All that matters is the song in our hearts.”
Hank realized Jane was shivering as they walked along the beach toward the inn. He slipped his jacket off and draped it over her shoulders. Still humming a tune, she graced him with an appreciative smile that sent a bolt of tightness through his belly. He told himself he was doing a good deed and that Jane needed a place to stay—but her simple smile lit him up like the Fourth of July, and at thirty-four and with all his life experiences, he was mature enough to know his emotions.
He was falling for this twenty-four-year-old pop star who was entirely out of his league. She was used to limousines, flying first class, star-studded galas, and hanging with the high-rollers. What was he, a small-town innkeeper, doing entertaining fantasies of a love affair with a woman used to adoration and luxury—not to mention her beauty, talent, and fame? What could he and Moonlit Harbor possibly offer her except as a place of temporary refuge?
The warm light spilled from the inn's windows, a picture of homely comfort in a quiet evening. Crickets chirped a steady cadence, and leaves rustled in the trees as they climbed the stairs to the main entrance. Jane had been silent the entire walk, but she seemed at peace, not once looking over her shoulder. He wasglad to provide this sense of security for her. Most likely, she was exhausted after the events of the day.
He opened the door for her and was greeted by the cozy sight of Emma engrossed in her homework at the kitchen table while his mother bustled around tidying up. A pair of covered plates sat on the table waiting for them, and Howie, their only other tenant, sat with his chair propped back on two legs, whittling a piece of driftwood.
“Hank, Jane, you’re back.” Mom was the first to notice them. “We were so worried about you after what happened to your truck. Where did you go? You must be hungry.”
“You’re too kind,” Jane said, giving Hank his jacket. “I’m glad to be back, too.”
“Jane!” Emma jumped up from her homework and rushed to her with her arms open.
Hank was heartened to see Jane hug his daughter as Howie gave a gappy grin. “Was wondering if the surf rolled you out to sea, Seajane, or is it Sierra Rayne?”
“Hold it.” Hank intervened. “Let’s all sit for a minute. There’s something important we need to discuss.”
“What’s happening?” Emma’s expression clouded. “Am I right? Is Jane really Sierra?”
Jane took a seat and looked into Emma’s eyes. “Yes, I’m not just Jane. I’m Sierra Rayne.”
Emma’s eyes popped wide, and she jumped up and down, clasping her hands. “Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. I knew you looked like her, but you weren’t wearing her clothes. I can’t believe you’re actually here.”
Jane smiled kindly. “It’s true. I hope you can understand why I’m keeping a low profile. It would mean so much to me if you could help keep my secret.”
“Of course, anything for you,” Emma cried. “Are you still going to teach me guitar, right?”
“I’d love nothing more,” Jane said. “But you can’t let anyone else know I’m here, or I’ll have to leave.”
“Why did you cancel your concert?” Emma asked, looking flabbergasted.
“I have private reasons why I’d rather be here than at the Crystal Coliseum,” Jane explained. “I can’t wait to write all the songs in my head, and we can riff on them on the guitar.”
“I promise I won’t tell anyone about you,” Emma exclaimed. “I kinda suspected. You look so much like her.”
Hank looked at his mother and Howie, who were both avidly observing the interaction.
“How about you two? Will you keep Jane’s secret?”
Mom pursed her lips. “Hmm, well, I can’t say I approve of all this sneaking around. But I suppose if it gives Sierra or Jane a respite from those pesky reporters, I’ll play along.”
Howie snorted, blowing his whiskers. “Well, shoot, I already knew there was something fishy about you. When I asked your name the first day, you blurted ‘Seajane’ before correcting yourself to Jane. But don’t you worry, missy. Your secret’s safe with me.”
“What about the rest of the town?” Mom asked. “Won’t they figure it out eventually?”
“I only need a few weeks of privacy,” Jane said. “After I write these songs, I can return to singing and performing.”
The tension that was easing from Hank’s shoulders was back. Jane would eventually leave and likely never return. Whatever problems she had, she expected them to be resolved soon.
“Can I go to one of your concerts?” Emma asked.
Jane tilted her head toward Hank, and Emma added, “Dad, please?”
“We’ll have to see. Jane had a long day, and she’s exhausted. You have homework to do.”
“I can provide you with VIP treatment, a limo, and a backstage pass,” Jane said, winking. “But only if you do your homework and keep your grades up.”
