Page 15 of The Lyrics of Love

She pushed to her feet and went downstairs, where she found Jerry dusting.

“Register is opened and ready for business,” he told her. “How did dinner go?”

“It didn’t,” she confided. “But I’m okay. Let’s talk business instead. I arranged deliveries for what I bought yesterday.”

Jerry moved to the calendar they kept under the counter by the register, and he made a note of when both would need to go out.

“I’ll text the boys and let them know,” he said proudly.

Rylie had taught the retired accountant how to text, and he thoroughly enjoyed doing so because his son and two grandsons had rarely wanted to talk on the phone with him. They always returned a text promptly, though.

Jerry’s phone dinged, and he read the message. Looking up from his screen, he said, “They’re able to do both.”

Antiques clocks started chiming the half-hour through the store, letting them know it was nine-thirty.

“I’ll go change the sign and unlock the door,” she said, moving to the front of the store.

When she reached the glass door and flipped the sign, her heart slammed against her ribs.

Nash Edwards stood there.

Rylie swallowed hard and threw the lock, opening the door and pasting on a social smile.

“Nash. I’m glad you came to see Antiques and Mystiques,” she lied.

CHAPTER 6

Nash awoke with a burning need to see Rylie. The melody and lyrics of the song he had written the previous evening echoed in his mind.

He wanted to play the song for her.

Maybe it would make a difference. Maybe it wouldn’t. Still, he owed it to himself to try. He showered and dressed and put on coffee while he made himself a bowl of cereal. Rylie was right. It would be good for him to get into a routine. A normal routine. Going to bed and getting up at the same time each day. Eating three meals at proper times. Even though his last tour had ended a year ago, Nash had continued to keep the odd hours of the road, sleeping when he was too tired to do anything else, snacking more than sitting for a meal. He believed if he did find a rhythm in living everyday life, the reward would be the payoff in the songs he produced.

And whether she knew it or not, Rylie Robinson was his new muse.

He still didn’t trust women. Correction—a majority of women. Yet there was something about Rylie. Something wholesome and sweet that made him yearn to try again. To start over.

He would ask her for that chance today.

As he ate breakfast, he scrolled through his phone, avoiding anything to do with entertainment news. Instead, for the first time in a long time, he perused national and international headlines, reading about politics, economics, and sports. The last year of his life had been a wasted one. At thirty, Nash no longer wanted to waste a minute more. He had let thoughts of Luna dominate him for far too long. She had been in his life such a short while, yet she had yielded an influence far stronger than she should have. He told himself it was time to let go of the past. His past with Luna. The past with his parents. What was that old saying?

Today is the first day of the rest of your life.

Nash determined to make this—and every day—better than the one before.

He recalled that Rylie said her store opened at nine-thirty during tourist season. Well, it was August, so it had to be the height of that. He decided he would be there when she opened her doors—and ask for a second chance.

He left the house and got into his truck, driving the short distance to the center of Maple Cove. Easing into a parking slot which faced the gazebo, it was dead center of the town square. From his car, he looked at the various stores and restaurants surrounding him. An insurance company. A hair salon. A bookstore. The bakery, which reminded him that he still had cupcakes to eat. He saw a brewhouse and a grill. A café. What really drew his attention was Sid’s Diner. Nash had always loved the simple fare of diner food and decided to eat there soon. He needed to venture back into public. He’d lost contact with the real world and needed to stop self-isolating.

With two minutes to go until Rylie’s store opened, Nash climbed from his truck and headed across the street, seeing the Closed sign hanging on the door. He could see lights within, though, and knew it would open in a matter of moments.

Would Rylie be the one at the door? Did she spend any time on the floor, or was she in her office hunting down deals as employees handled sales? Something told him that Rylie would be a hands-on owner.

He caught sight of her talking with an elderly gentleman, and then she made her way toward the front of the store. She seemed distracted and did not notice him standing on the sidewalk until after she had flipped the sign to open. Her shock was obvious, but she recovered quickly and unlocked the door.

Opening it, she smiled—but the smile did not reach her eyes.

“Nash. I’m glad you came to see Antiques and Mystiques.”

---