Page 63 of The Lyrics of Love

Rylie hung up. “Pops, that was Carter Clark, a friend of ours.”

“The Carter from the cooking video?” Pops asked. “I like that boy.”

“He knows you’re in town and that we spent all of today in Portland. He’s going to have dinner for us. All we need to do is swing by and pick it up.”

“I knew he was a nice kid,” Pops said.

As they drove back to the coast, Nash told his grandfather about his new circle of friends. “I think we’ll need to have everyone over so you can meet them. Or maybe not. My cottage is pretty small. So is Rylie’s house. But I’m sure we can talk one of them into volunteering to host everyone.”

“I’ll work on that,” Rylie promised. “Will you record on the weekends?”

“Just Saturdays,” he said. “Why don’t we try to aim for Saturday night?”

“I’m on it,” Rylie said, tapping on her phone and exchanging a series of text messages over the next several minutes.

As they pulled into the Cove, she announced. “We’re on for Saturday night in the Martins’ back yard. Jackson will grill hamburgers for us. We’ve already got the rest of the menu divided up, except for dessert. Obviously, Ainsley will make it, but she wanted to know what Pops’ favorite dessert might be. What would you like?”

“I know exactly what I want,” Pops told them. “I only had it once and never forgot it. An Italian rainbow cake. Layers of red, yellow, and green, with raspberry filling between each layer. Think your friend can pull that off?”

Nash laughed. “Pops, Ainsley graduated from a fancy, famous pastry school in Paris. She can make things you’ve never heard of. Every time I eat some sweet of hers, I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

“Then that’s what I want,” Pops said.

“I’m on it.” Rylie typed in a text. “It’s sent.”

Almost immediately, her phone chimed. “Ainsley is excited about the rainbow cake, Pops, and about meeting you on Saturday night. She says you have good taste in desserts.”

They swung by Carter’s. He hurried out to meet them, two large sacks in his hands. “Welcome to the Cove, Mr. Edwards. Thought I’d make a little something for you guys to eat since you were tied up in Portland all day.”

“That’s Pops to you. And thank you, Carter. Ever since my grandson took a cooking lesson with you, I’ve started watching you online.”

“Hey, maybe you and Nash might like to film an episode together,” Carter suggested.

“Only if I can eat what we make afterward,” Pops proclaimed.

Carter handed over the bags. “Enjoy.”

They returned to Nash’s rental and found Carter had sent a salad, King Ranch casserole, and homemade sourdough bread.

“This is a feast,” Pops proclaimed.

Once they finished dinner, Pops said he would clean up while Nash drove Rylie home.

“Take your time,” he told the pair, causing Rylie’s laughter to bubble.

Nash escorted her inside and led her to the sofa, kissing her a solid fifteen minutes.

“I better go,” he said. “Thanks for coming today. I wanted you to see a little bit of my world. How things are put together. How I collaborate with others. What it’s like to be in the booth. I’ll be sure to bring home a file of the final version of Mistake that Lars and the engineers put together.”

“I’m sorry I’ll be back at work tomorrow,” she told him, kissing him again.

“If you have any free time this week, play hooky and come watch again,” he said.

Rylie shook her head. “I’ve got an auction and two estate sales to hit. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Nash told her, allowing one final, long kiss before breaking it. “I’ll text you to let you know how things are going. You do the same. I’ll check my phone between songs.”

“Okay,” she said happily, walking him to the door. “It’s going to be a little lonely without you next to me tonight. I’ll have to wrap my arms around your pillow and make do with smelling it instead of you.”

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