Page 28 of Four Dates and A Forever
“Do you believe that? Do you see a second chance after all this? Because I can’t even contemplate going through that kind of pain again.”
Elsie believed wholeheartedly in true love and marriage, she’d seen it work for her friends. She just didn’t think it was possible for her. She was a third-generation divorcée from men suffering from slippery dick syndrome. She didn’t even know what healthy love looked like.
“No. I’m a total enabler for my friends when it comes to love and relationships, but even the thought of going on another date makes my palms sweat.”
“I didn’t know you were dating,” he said casually.
“I’m not, but my grandma didn’t get the memo. She ambushed me at family dinner with a date, who ended the evening by asking my mom out for a movie.”
A blink-and-you’ll-miss-it flash of anger tinted his expression. “The guy’s a dick.”
She waved a dismissive hand, which she didn’t feel. Sure, she and Huey were mismatched and had zero chemistry, but how many women could say that their first post-divorce date ended with her partner falling all over himself to impress his date’s mom?
“Based on his tiny hands, calling him a dick is a big overstatement.” As she’d hoped, he laughed. “Now that I’ve won the crappiest week crown, why don’t you tell me about your day. How come you didn’t write?”
“How do you know I didn’t write?”
She glanced down at his very large, very manly hands. “When you’re in creative mode your fingers are constantly in motion, even when you’re not holding a guitar.” She moved her fingers and, ever so slightly, strummed the air.
He lifted his hands as if they were no longer connected to his body. “I didn’t even know I did that.”
She shrugged. “That’s how I knew you were a musician when we met that first night.”
“The same night you told me you didn’t date musicians.”
She didn’t. She’d had a strict off-limits rule where musicians were concerned. Growing up with an absent father, who put his music before his daughter, Elsie wanted something more stable for her future. Someone who would be there for dinner, someone she’d wake up to every morning. But she’d broken her rule for Rhett. One weekend, she’d promised herself. What was the harm?
Elsie discovered that no-strings relationships weren’t in her genetic makeup. That weekend taught her that she was a to-her-core, no-exceptions, long-term kind of woman.
Suddenly her head began to throb. She told herself that it was brain freeze or the long and disappointing day, but that was a lie.
“Writing has always been your escape. What do you think changed?”
“I’m trying to escape too many things,” he whispered, and her heart gave a tiny bump. “That’s part of the reason I’m home, to figure out what’s going on. In the beginning, I told myself it was the chaos surrounding my divorce, but it’s far enough behind me that I can’t use it as an excuse anymore. I mean, I spent six hours in the studio and didn’t write a single useable note.”
“What about the song you were tinkering with the other day?”
“I can’t seem to get past the chorus.”
“What do you normally do when you’re stuck?”
“Hell if I know. I’ve never been stumped.”
“Ever?” His expression was one of frustration and helplessness. She handed him the overflowing spoon. “Okay, what do you love about being a musician?”
“Usually, it’s the creative process. But it’s hard to write about love when love didn’t work out for me.”
“You wrote about love before Steph, you can write about it now. Or maybe write about something different. Maybe heartbreak,” she said. “Or try a change in scenery. Find a stage.”
She could see him pondering the idea, then he shook his head. “It’s not like I can stand on a corner like I used to and play for passersby. I’d be mobbed.”
“You’re a smart guy, you’ll figure it out.” She patted his cheek and at the innocent contact, a warmth spread through her. He felt it too because his gaze jerked to hers. She immediately dropped her hand.
“Maybe a corner without all the drilling and pounding,” he teased.
“The studio is soundproof. And I know this because when Axel would have the guys over for poker and I needed to work, I’d disappear down there for some quiet.”
“Yeah, well the insulation wasn’t thick enough to keep out Big Pete, who likes to sing when he works. Britney Spears is his top pick of tunes, in case you were wondering.”
