âWas it real, what we felt then?â
A long sigh shuddered through him before he spoke. âReal enough that we went through a lot of pain for each other. Real enough that sitting here together isnât some easygoing reunion.â
Hearing that heavy sigh of his, she realized heâd suffered, too, more than sheâd ever known. Somehow, that made her feel less alone. Yes, theyâd hurt each other, but maybe they could help each other, too. Maybe the time had come for a coda of sorts, to bring their song to an end.
âMalcolm, whatâs Europe going to be like if just sitting here together is this difficult?â
âSo youâve decided to come with me? No more maybes.â
She shoved to her feet and walked to him at the piano. âI think I have to.â
âBecause of the stalker?â
She cupped his handsome, beard-stubbled face in her hands. âBecause itâs time we put this to rest.â
Before she could talk herself out of something she wantedâneededâmore than air, Celia pressed her lips to his.
To the charter members of âThe Tree House Club,â karaoke singers extraordinaire:
Johnny, Tom, Elena, Lori, Mike, Vicky, George, Jerry, Linda, Shawn, Chris, and Daphne.
Midway through the junior-high choirâs rehearsal of âItâs a Small World,â Celia Patel found out just how small the world could shrink.
She dodged left and right as half the singersâthe female halfâsprinted down the stands, squealing in fan-girl glee. Their footsteps rattled metal risers and squeaked on the gymnasium floor, the stampeding herd moving as one. All their energy focused on racing to the back of the gymnasium where he stood.
Malcolm Douglas.
Seven-time Grammy award winner.
Platinum-selling soft-rock star.
And the man whoâd broken Celiaâs heart when they were both sixteen years old.
Celia hefted aside her music stand before the last of the middle-school girls rushed by, oblivious to her attempts to stop them. Identical twins Valentina and Valeria nearly plowed her down in their dash to the back. Already, a couple dozen students circled him. Two bodyguards shuffled their feet uncertainly while more squeals and giggles ricocheted into the rafters.
Malcolm raised a stalling hand to the ominous bodyguards while keeping his eyes locked on Celia, smiling that million-watt grin that had graced CD covers and promo shots. Tall and honed, he still had a hometown-boy-handsome appeal that hadnât dimmed. Heâd merely maturedânow polished with confidence and about twenty more pounds of whipcord muscle.
Success and chart-topping wealth probably didnât hurt.
She wanted him gone. For her sanityâs sake, she needed him gone. But now that he was here, she couldnât look away.
He wore his khakis and designer loafersâsocklessâwith the easy confidence of a man comfortable in his skin. Sleeves rolled up on his chambray shirt exposed strong, tanned forearms and musicianâs hands.
Best not to think about his talented, nimble hands.
His sandy-brown hair was as thick as she remembered. It was still a little long, skimming over his forehead in a way that once called to her fingers to stroke it back. And those blue eyesâheaven help herâshe recalled well how indigo-dark they went just before he kissed her with the enthusiasm and ardor of a hormone-pumped teenager.
There was no denying he was all man now.
What in the hell was he doing here? Malcolm hadnât set foot in Azalea, Mississippi, since a judge crony of her fatherâs had offered Malcolm the choice of juvie or military reform school nearly eighteen years ago. Since heâd left her behindâscared, pregnant and determined to salvage her life.
Even though he showed up regularly in the tabloids, seeing him in person after all these years was different. Not that sheâd gone searching for photos of him. But given his popularity, she couldnât help but be periodically blindsided by glimpses of him. Worst of all, though, was hearing the sound of his voice crooning over the radio as she changed the station.
Now, across the room, he pressed a paper against his knee to sign an autograph for Valentinaâor Valeria. No one could tell them apart, not even their mother sometimes. Totally beside the point, because watching Malcolm with the young girl twisted Celiaâs heart with what could have been if somehow, against the odds and all better judgment, theyâd been able to keep and raise their baby.