His Sweetest Song Read online

  “You just get here um…?”

  “Alicia,” I said, since it seemed that’s what he’d been looking for. I gazed around and he watched me while I toured the little space of the bathroom he didn’t take up. He had tools everywhere, a mess everywhere and none of it made sense. If Marilyn was having a handyman come over today she should have told me so I wouldn’t be surprised at his presence.

  He took a step behind me as I’d turned my back.

  “Sorry about the mess—”

  “I’m sorry,” I started, turning around. “But did Marilyn send you? She never mentioned someone coming by today to fix things in the house.”

  “And Marilyn would be?”

  “My realtor?” I told him, looking up at the mass of him. He was quite tall.

  I stood my ground. “She brought me here today and didn’t mention a handyman. She actually said the house was well cared for.”

  Gray nodded with the words and when he came toward me I stiffened. He just said he had no idea who Marilyn was, which meant he was an intruder.

  I blinked, as he gained. “What are you—”

  The flush of a toilet sounded when he pulled the handle, his wide frame reaching around me.

  “Well your realtor’s idea of well cared for is your toilet slow flushing,” he said, standing upright. A whoosh of oak scent thickened in the air around me, the smell combined with the faint smell of cotton, his t-shirt.

  Soft blue eyes flicked right and I followed the direction.

  Dipping my head, I noted the toilet had flushed just fine.

  He navigated around me, causing me to do a small dance in the bathroom when he took my place and turned on the faucet of the sink he’d just been under.

  “And your water coming out brown,” he said, the droplets slow at first, but then full stream. Clear water came in a steady current and I watched until he moved. “That was until I fixed it,” he finished. After splashing his hands under the stream and turning the water off, he rubbed his hands on his rag again.

  “Neither was working properly until I did.”

  An air of smugness I gathered from his tone, but I didn’t comment on it. If he did what he said, I supposed that was good.

  And he was staring at me again, a long and well-observant peer like he was taking me in…

  As well as sizing me up a little.

  I squared my shoulders. “I suppose you want something for it? Your trouble?”

  Dark eyebrows shot up. He pushed the rag behind himself, back into his pocket, and when he leaned back on the sink, he crossed an ankle over the other.

  “What I did with the toilet was a temporary fix,” he said, moving on the conversation like I’d said nothing about money, nothing at all.

  Bending down, he picked up the back of the toilet and repositioned it.

  “The toilet will back up,” he said. “It will fail, so you’re going to have to get someone out here to take care of it soon, as well as look at the motor on your fridge. It’s crap and will eventually be the reason your food spoils if you let it. I told your aunt about this and a few other problems many times but—”

  “My aunt?” That’d been the first and only thing really to get my attention.

  He knew my aunt? He… knew her? What did he know?

  There went that gaze again, sharp and intense in his stare and when he kicked a leg off the other, he stood to full height.

  “Yes,” he said, then dipped, picking up his tools. I could only watch, stare as the man went about his actions and gathered his things like it was nothing. Like this was routine for him and he’d done this before.

  Maybe he had.

  His final item of retrieval had been a pencil, which he pushed behind his ear.

  His toolbox hit his hip when he lowered his shoulders.

  “You’ll take care of all this, right?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. “Get someone in here soon? I’d hate to see this place fall apart.”

  I could only nod, on autopilot by what he said and the tone in which he’d stated it.

  He’d sounded so serious.

  After he got that from me, that single solitary movement of acknowledgement, his gaze parted from mine. He looked away and then up like he was taking it all in, absorbing it. Without a goodbye or I guess even a hello, he left my side. He asked for nothing from me when he went down the hall, not for the sink, toilet, the advice, or anything. He simply walked away, the top of his head disappearing down the stairwell.

  The front door clicked shut not long after.

  Chapter Two

  Alicia

  The cab didn’t come after I called and I waited for almost two hours before I began walking.

  She said everything is within walking distance.

  Banking on that, I closed the door behind me, then locked the entryway to my aunt’s house. I’d been waiting the better part of the evening for my ride and dusk had started to settle in—hence the lights. I had no idea how far or how long I’d be traveling, so I decided taking only the necessities from my overnight bag seemed like the most reasonable action for travel. I got my toothbrush and a pair of panties, which I stuffed into my oversized purse. The final element had been a pair of more sensible shoes. I had a pair of flats in my luggage and decided those were my best bet for tonight’s journey.

  I headed onward after that, using my cellphone light after a while, as I ventured into the wildness known as my aunt’s small town. The area was completely surrounded in trees and landscape despite the single gravel road leading out from the country home and I wished I would have paid more attention on the drive up here with Marilyn.

  Or taken her advice to just stay at the house.

  The concept just felt inappropriate. This really wasn’t my house and to stay there like I lived there didn’t feel right.

  Then there had been that guy…

  Maybe it was just normal that country people walked into one’s home, fixed things because they felt like it and didn’t take or ask anything for it. Maybe this was all normal, but for me none of it made sense and the need for refuge and comfort was something that I needed right now.

  That and cell service.

  I hadn’t been able to make any calls besides the one to the cab company. Not that anyone in a hundred-mile radius could help me anyway. I was on my own here, out of my element and ideally wished I would have taken my dad’s advice to handle all this—the inheritance—himself. He’d offered graciously, but I wanted to do this. My aunt was my only link to that side of my family and I was grown. I had this.

  My cellphone died.

  I don’t have this.

  My feet in an aimless sprint, I shuffled in the only direction I knew of. The rocky road underneath my feet wasn’t easily made out, but it could be seen and I stayed on it, suddenly wishing for the obnoxious noises of city life to guide me to some sort of civilization. The only thing out here were owl calls and cricket chirps.

  The lights of a small city took my vision about halfway between me being kinda freaked and completely losing it, a cluster of tiny buildings ahead in the night. As I moved forward, they got bigger and I realized immediately this was it. This was the town, downtown.

  All the buildings faced each other like in a square and as I had no idea what building was which, I headed in the direction of the closest. It happened to be a bar judging by the flashing neon lights of Budweiser and Guinness and I gave a silent prayer of relief at the sight of something familiar.

  Shrugging my bag up my shoulder, I cracked the door and entered a room so lively I questioned if I’d been in the middle of nothing only moments ago.

  I guess this is where everyone is, travelled my thoughts, as well as my sight. I normally felt at home in environments such as this, partying and bars nothing new to me. Stuffy, suited businessmen and women partied hard if not harder than the rest of them and I’d always been along for the ride.

  But that was in Chicago.

  People, faces—white male faces—ventured in my dir
ection. Heads cocked, I got more than a few stares my way and the fact that I was in a small town came to fruition in my thoughts.

  Brushing next to burley men at high-top tables eating wings and guzzling beer, I lowered my head, looking for a kind eye to latch upon. I needed someone to tell me where the BNB was and at the sight of the bar, came my saving grace.

  What happened to be the sole woman in this place resided there.

  And we just happened to share the same skin.

  The woman looked a bit hipster, slender in frame with a beanie cap on her head. She’d actually pass for a boy had I not looked twice, but she was clearly female, her tight-fitting jeans and slight bump of bosom beneath a plaid shirt evident.

  I hustled my way toward her, not stopping for anything.

  I dropped my heavy bag of currency and personal items on the counter, sighing relief as I slid onto a bar stool. The bartender didn’t see me right away and I waved my hand, attempting to get her attention. When I didn’t get that I waited patiently. She passed shots and mugs to customers a mile a minute so I figured I’d wait my turn. A soft “Can I help you?” eventually came my way from her direction, muffled behind that of the bar’s music, but as the woman was still turning out drinks, she didn’t look at me when she asked the question.

  I placed my hand on the counter, wanting to ask her about the BNB, but figured I should at least order a drink first.

  I got out my wallet. “A vodka tonic, please, more vodka than tonic.”

  My order got a few eyes, but only a slight smile from the bartender. She looked up finally, looked at me, and at the sight of me, she did a double take. She did like a legitimate double take, stepping back.

  She blinked at me. “What?”

  I guess a place such as this might not have what I ordered, small town, small bar.

  I smiled. “If you don’t have that I’ll take whatever is on tap?”

  This seemed the safer option, but the woman’s eyes didn’t do anything to lessen in size. Eventually, she stepped forward.

  “Um, yes, yeah, um?” she pulled her hat off, revealing the tight, short coils of natural hair, big and bushy in nature despite how the hat had concealed them.

  Forcing the hat under the bar, she exchanged it out for a mug.

  “Budweiser okay?” she asked, looking up twice.

  Then a third.

  My eyes shifted. Looking down, I thought I might have had something on my white blouse or something. When glances came up unscathed, I set an arm on the counter.

  “Yeah, that’s fine.”

  A curt nod and she filled the empty mug, the glass pumped full with frothy booze. She slid it over to me and I thanked her, placing her a tip in the amount of the drink. I was sure she worked hard here, bartenders tended to do so.

  Lifting the extra bills, she muttered thanks before pocketing them. I thought she’d move on to someone else, but she chose to let the other guy behind the counter handle the others, choosing instead to wipe down the bar in front of me.

  I sipped the alcohol, not exactly what I was used to, but not bad. I grew up with three half brothers and saying they liked to drink in their youth was an understatement. I got about a quarter of it down before I noticed the bartender girl was still there.

  And was still very much looking at me.

  What was with people in this town…

  “You’re not Alicia are you?”

  I blinked now.

  How did she know my name?

  She must have realized how unusual what she just said came across to me because she stopped wiping the counter, chewing her lip a little.

  “Small town,” she said, bunching up the rag. “I think everyone here knows who you are. We all knew Josephine, and well, there’s not very many of us here.”

  She gestured her rag back and forth between us, laughing a little, and gazing around, people did glance at me from time to time. But if they did, they just went back to their conversations. I even got a couple smiles when I locked gazes with a few people.

  Relieved by that, the friendliness, I nodded.

  “Uh, yeah,” I said, breathing. Quite a day so far. I put my hand on the bar. “I just got in earlier today. I’m in town to settle my aunt’s estate.”

  At the words, the girl’s lips went tight, a slight sadness with her nod. She said she knew my aunt, that everyone did, so I bet this all affected her quite a bit, the loss.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” she said, leaning on the bar. “We loved Jo.”

  And so it was confirmed. What I remember of my aunt had been positive memories and I wished I could have had more of them, had something like they all seemed to.

  “So you just uh, came into town for a drink or…”

  “No, actually.” I was glad she brought it up. I’d nearly forgotten after sitting down, my senses on overloaded. “My realtor told me about a bed and breakfast. I’m trying to find it for the night but wasn’t sure what building it was. I walked from my aunt’s house.”

  “You’re not staying there?” she asked, sliding a brew over to a patron. What she said had been similar to the realtor.

  “I plan on working and I need the Internet for that. It’ll only be for a few nights while I’m here.”

  I’d blocked off the whole week for the finalization of the details surrounding the estate, but didn’t plan on using the time if I didn’t have to. I had a very fast-paced job and didn’t want to get behind.

  The girl’s expression cringed after she brought her attention back to me.

  “It’s actually undergoing repairs,” she said, resting her arms on the bar. “There was a fire earlier this summer. Some stupid kids. It hasn’t been in commission for a bit now.”

  Something my realtor failed to mention. She didn’t live in town, though. She and her husband had been someone my aunt apparently hired from a nearby town, which was more heavily populated, no estate planners in the area I guessed.

  I’m not surprised.

  There really wasn’t anything out here let alone the tools needed to settle an estate. I was just wrapping my head around the fact that I’d have to travel in the dark all the way back to my aunt’s when the woman behind the bar got my attention again.

  “You don’t remember me, do you?” she asked, smiling a little. “I guess it has been a long time and I do look different. I used to come over a lot to your aunt’s when I was a kid. I wore glasses at the time, big round ones.”

  My memory pulled for those elements, a little girl with big glasses lost in the sea of twenty-eight-year-old memories. That in itself made the feat damn near impossible, but as I worked through the muck for anything of who she could be, my thoughts did pull something.

  I remembered a girl coming over sometimes. We’d played with my aunt’s doll collection and Aunt Jo had been so annoyed when we did. The dolls had been precious, had glass faces or something, but the girl and I played anyway. Ava had been her name.

  I said the name with the thought and when the woman said the same name, my eyes widened.

  “Oh my… God. You look so different.”

  And she did. I recalled her being a chubby little thing, round cheeks and all.

  Ava’s head bounced back and forth in the air.

  “Thinned out a little I guess,” she said, laughing. “You look different, too. So smart and fashionable.”

  I sat back with my crisp shorts and flat-ironed hair I styled up today. I used to not care so much before, getting just as dirty as any kid my age. Things changed, though. We grew up.

  “I guess we both did a little changing,” I said, gripping my mug. “And you’re still here. Didn’t leave or anything?”

  “I left for a little while. College. I didn’t do so well, so I came back.”

  My mouth made an “o” and she waved me off.

  “It’s fine,” she said. “This is home. It always seems to pull you back and I did come back in the end. Most do.”

  I respected that, smiling at her. She excused he
rself for a moment, obviously needing to help others, and by the time she came back, I finished my beer.

  “You headed out?” she asked, flipping her tiny spirals in my direction. She was filling up a mug for someone.

  I slid off my chair. “Yeah, I should head back to the house. Though, I’m not exactly sure what direction to head in.”

  I had no cellphone for light this time and almost got lost the first time—going in a straight line.

  Ava frowned. “You walking there?”

  “I think so,” I said, patting my purse. “I tried to call a cab earlier but—”

  “Oh, if you wait a second I can take you home. I get off in about,” she paused to check the clock on the wall behind the bar. “Thirty minutes? Or is that too long for you?”

  It was like she asked if I minded chocolate. This girl was turning out to be my saving grace.

  After thanking her profusely, I slid my way back onto the barstool, making light conversation with Ava in the minutes she wasn’t serving.

  “You don’t happen to know anything about a guy named Gray, do you?” I asked, catching her during a moment of rest. I shrugged. “A little scruffy? Tall.”

  Huge, actually and would be a little intimating for a girl not able to hold her own. I’d been around people like him for most of my adult life. From gaining my MBA and law degree to my position now, senior associate at one of the most successful law firms in the country. Powerful people with an often brooding force came a dime a dozen in my life and didn’t easily throw me.

  Ava flipped her head of bouncy curls in my direction, her hands steadily filling a cup with brew.

  “I don’t know him per se,” she said, topping off the glass. “But I know of him, yeah. He’s actually like you. New to town, fairly anyway.”

  “Really?” I found this surprising considering he knew my aunt. At least, he said he had.

  Her fluffy curls bopped with her nod. “Yeah, moved around here less than a year ago, which is uncommon for people living here. Like me, I’ve lived here my whole life. He’s pretty quiet for the most part, keeps to himself.”