Page 22 of Love Songs

The strained sound of my voice now had nothing to do with my vocal cords and everything to do with the man at my side.

“Now we check out the sugar store, and then we go for lunch.”

We fell into easy conversation on the way back, as Conor shared stories of growing up in Caldwell Crossing and jumping off cliffs into Harmony Lake, and I shared some of the many adventures I’d had over the years touring around the country and abroad. As we talked, a pulling sensation grew inside me, growing larger, tugging harder, until I could identify what the feeling was: longing. Conor had had an idyllic childhood, and while mine wasn’t awful, my biological parents had disowned me. That had been a hard time, but thankfully, Kirk’s family had been there for me. I don’t know what I’d have done, or where I’d be today without them.

“So,” I said when we wandered into the Sugarworks Store and a comforting sugary-sweet aroma wrapped around melike an old blanket. I wanted to know everything about Conor Holliston. “You’ve lived here your whole life then?”

The smile that tugged at Conor’s mouth was wistful and his gaze went distant for a second as he led me deeper into the store, which overflowed with every imaginable maple syrup concoction, along with an eclectic collection of maple-themed knickknacks.

“Can’t imagine a better place to grow up,” he said with a fondness in his voice that made me smile. “My family all live here or nearby, and I have the best friends anyone could ask for.”

The sale flyer for the lakeside house popped into my mind again. Could Caldwell Crossing be the right place for me and Jaylin to live? Somewhere she could grow up safe and carefree and with lifelong friends like Conor had.

“Do you have a big family?” I asked, picking up a package of maple spice cookies I knew Jaylin would love.

“Three sisters.” Conor laughed, absently running a finger over a soft-looking plushie of a moose wearing a red bandana with the Stonebridge Maple Farm logo on it. I dropped the moose into my basket as I followed him down the aisle. “My oldest sister, Emma, is a doctor in town. Hazel is the second oldest. She works in marketing and lives about an hour away in Lebanon. Juno is my younger sister and she’s also a firefighter stationed down in Grantham. My folks live in town. Same house I grew up in.”

“Two firefighters in the family,” I whistled, adding some maple shaker meat rubs to my growing basket of everything maple.

“I think the two of us are responsible for my parents’ premature gray hair,” Conor paused and cocked his head in thought for a second. “Actually, I’m probably responsible for most of that all on my own.”

“Bit of a terror growing up, were you?”

“Let’s just say, I like a bit of an adrenaline rush from time to time.”

What he must have been like growing up, I mused to myself as we made our way to the checkout counter with my near-overfull basket. I got the meat rubs, three kinds of syrup, and the cookies and moose plushie for Jaylin.

Conor glanced over my shoulder and narrowed his eyes. I turned around to see three men a couple of aisles over, all quickly looking away at having been caught watching us. They stared intensely at a display of maple syrup, but one of them looked like he might be holding back laughter.

“Your friends, I take it,” I said, motioning toward them with my free hand.

“I’m so sorry,” Conor said with a huff. “I swear, sometimes I don’t think any of us evolved past high school.”

I shrugged. “It’s nice. They want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m not the one they should worry about,” Conor said loud enough for his voice to carry.

“Oh-oh, we’re in for it now,” I overhead one of the guys joke.

“Come on,” Conor said with a sigh, after I paid for my purchases. “You might as well meet them, or they won’t leave us alone.”

The trio gave up their shopping ruse as we approached, grinning as Conor made introductions. I met Ryan, with wavy brown hair, a stubbled jaw, and strong shoulders; Sam, who was the tallest of the three, wearing a plaid shirt and a serious expression; and Sam’s boyfriend Ben, who had light brown hair and while he was dressed casually, he had a big dog energy about him.

“Ryan is the one who carved the aliens,” Conor boasted, with a note of pride in his deep, honeyed voice.

A light blush crested high on Ryan’s cheeks, and he shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Wow. I love that you made them cute when they could have been scary,” I said, the praise coming easy because they were amazing. “Any chance you make smaller ones that you’d be willing to sell?”

“Thank you, and yes,” Ryan said, standing straighter. “I have some that are only a few inches tall.”

“I’ll take one,” I said. “Do you have a card?”

Ryan nodded, and his brown eyes sparkled even as his mouth tip down. “But not on me right now.”

“I’ll put you two in touch,” Conor offered.

“Great,” I said.

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