Playing By Heart Read online

  “Why does everything have to be a drama to you, Mila-bug?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Enough with the Mila-bug. I’m not six anymore.”

  “You always will be to me.”

  She rolled her eyes. That was three times in the conversation, just since he’d been counting. “Yes, that’s painfully apparent. But here’s the real question—why do you keep dodging the question of what the lady looks like.”

  He wrinkled his face in derision, but couldn’t meet her eyes when he said, “That’s crazy. I’m not doing that.”

  Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened. “Oh my God, yes you are. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure until just now, but you’re doing that thing where you’ll look anywhere but my eyes. You only do that when you’re lying or you’re embarrassed or you’re hiding something. Since you haven’t actually said anything that could be a lie or potentially embarrassing, you can consider yourself officially caught, bro. You’re hiding something. What is it?”

  He just shook his head and waved his hand dismissively.

  “You’re still doing it. So, what are you hiding? What are you hiding? What are you hiding? What are you hiding? I can do this all day, big bro. What are you hiding? What are you hiding? What are you hiding? What are you hiding? What are you hiding?”

  “All right, enough!” he cried. He made a point to look her square in the eyes as he said, “Her name is Alison. As for what she looks like, she’s very attractive. And, yes. We’re going on a date. Tonight. Satisfied?”

  She grinned from ear to ear. “Very.”

  He shook his head ruefully. “And why is that?”

  “Because it exponentially increases my chances of one day seeing the inside of that house.”

  Chapter 6

  Alison strolled down the secluded road that held her rental home, heading toward downtown. She paused every few hundred feet to turn her face up to the sky and drink in the salty ocean atmosphere, taking in a deep lungful of pine scented sea air. All of those things were good for her soul, and she wasn’t going to waste any time starting to enjoy them.

  She’d finally gotten out of her grubby jeans and T-shirt and felt a little bit more like herself. Well, like the small-town Oregon version of herself. She was well put together, wearing loose white linen slacks with heather gray strappy sandals and a coordinating brushed silk tank, but still considerably more pared down and casual than she would’ve been in New York.

  In fact, in her old life—as she was already mentally referring to it, each of these individual pieces would’ve been the neutral base on which she would’ve built a completely fashion forward ensemble. Now she was combining three neutrals to create a look that was minimalist and slickly elegant, and although it took some getting used to, she actually really liked the results and how she felt in it. It was like she wasn’t trying so hard.

  But, she’d realized when looking through her wardrobe as she unpacked, that she had absolutely nothing that would work to wear to dinner that evening. Every single dinner-appropriate piece she owned was far too decorative, looking at it in the muted light of the Oregon coast.

  In fact, as she considered and discarded one piece after another, she’d started to wonder what she’d even been thinking when she packed these pieces. Or she thought with an inner cringe, when she’d bought them.

  Aggressively asymmetrical hem. Rejected.

  Calculatedly bold color blocking. Rejected.

  Shocking sheerness. Rejected.

  Rejected. Rejected. Rejected.

  Finally, she’d gotten to the bottom of her luggage. Nothing left in the suitcase except her toiletries bag and an old, beat up pair of running shoes. And she had not one single article of clothing which had even made the cut into a “maybe” pile, let alone a “yes” pile.

  Forget about a “hell yes” pile.

  So, here she was, three thousand miles away from New York and yet going through the most single-girl-in-the-city ritual she could imagine—last-minute shopping for the perfect outfit right before a date.

  She rounded the corner to the main downtown area of Valentine Bay and stopped for a moment to admire the quaint view. It looked like a postcard had sprung to life and nestled itself into the pine tree studded hillside, with the sound of the ocean a few blocks away just adding to the picture-perfect ambience.

  The buildings were old-fashioned and cedar-sided, with each shop bearing a hand-painted sign over the storefront whose name it bore. Looking up and down the street, she didn’t see one familiar logo or business name. There were no chain restaurants or retail stores here. Every single one was a mom and pop operation, or at least it gave off that vibe.

  She hoped there was a store that would carry something appropriate—spectacular—for her date that night. A tickle of nervousness skittered its way through her belly. She hadn’t even thought that there might not be a clothes store here with items she liked. She was so used to the hyper convenience of a place like Manhattan that it hadn’t even entered her mind.

  She pulled her phone out of the side pocket of her bag and tapped lightly so the time would light up on the lock screen. Crap, there was no time to drive all the way into Portland and back, let alone shop there, let alone also have enough time to get ready before Troy picked her up tonight.

  There was only one option left. Prayer.

  She picked up her pace as she continued along down the main retail drag, inwardly grimacing at herself. Like walking a little faster was going to make all the difference. Still, she couldn’t shake the sense of urgency.

  One block passed. Two. Still, there was nothing. Touristy T-shirt shops—that was the closest thing she saw to a clothing store, nothing that even approached the kind of little Oregon-chic boutique she’d been envisioning when she set out from the house.

  That little flutter of nervousness was quickly blossoming into fully flowering panic, but she did her best to hold it down and keep it together.

  Just when she’d reached the point where she didn’t know how much longer she could trust herself to keep from losing it, she spotted a possibility and hurried across the street to take a closer look at the storefront that had caught her eye.

  It wasn’t a clothing boutique—not strictly. The window display featured glasswork, oil paintings, pottery, and all kinds of other custom-made pieces. But in among those artisan designs were shoes, handbags, and a few artfully displayed garments.

  “Hallelujah, thank the sweet Lord,” Alison muttered under her breath as she opened the door and stepped into the shop, which she could see by the handcrafted sign was called Everything Ella. A bell above the door jingled cheerfully as she entered.

  A pretty blonde woman smiled, welcoming Alison as she came out from behind the counter and crossed the shop toward her. “Hi, there! I’m Ella. Can I help you with anything?”

  Normally, Alison’s M.O. would’ve been to browse around the shop until she saw something she was interested in and then ask the woman for a fitting room, but she didn’t have time for that. The store was charming, but not what you could call well-organized. Her best bet was to explain what she wanted and get some suggestions.

  “Well, I’m new in town …” she began, but Ella jumped in before she could go any further.

  “Oh, I know! You’re staying in the Grayson place, out on the bluff, right?”

  That stopped Alison in her tracks. “How did you know that?”

  Ella laughed. “Oh, honey. You’d be surprised how much people can know in a small town, and how quickly they can know it. So, are you looking for some knickknacks to give the place a little personality?”

  “Well, I actually have a date tonight, and I need something to wear.” Alison blushed as she said it, surprising herself. She was normally pretty straightforward about her dating life. You had to be when, half the time, it ended up in the papers. There was just something about Troy—he made the whole thing feel fresh again, like it was all happening for the first time.

  “Ooo la-la,” Ella
crooned as she bustled around the store, collecting pieces and draping them over her arm. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

  The blush deepened. She felt her skin getting hot. Pretty soon, she thought wryly, you won’t even be able to call it a blush anymore. It’ll technically be a rash.

  “His name is Troy. He owns the place next to where I’m renting.”

  Ella’s eyes widened. “Troy Valentine? Really? Are you serious?”

  “Yeah, I am. Why?”

  Ella’s grin stretched from ear to ear. “It’s just… I mean, that’s great. Don’t get me wrong. But let’s just say that you’re going to have to deal with some jealous ladies here in town. Troy is considered quite the catch.”

  That didn’t surprise Alison at all. In fact, she considered him quite the catch, and she’d only just met the man.

  “So, you know him, then?”

  Ella laughed. Alison tilted her head to the side, not sure what she’d said that was so funny until Ella explained, “Sorry. You’re new here, you wouldn’t realize – but you’ll get the same answer to that question no matter who you ask, and no matter who you’re asking about. Everybody knows everybody around here.”

  “Oh, right. That makes sense.”

  “And, even if that wasn’t the case, yes, I do know Troy. He’s my brother-in-law.”

  Alison’s eyes widened. “Oh. Wow. I…I’m not sure what to say. Does this make it awkward?”

  Ella grinned. “Not awkward. But more difficult.”

  “How?”

  Ella picked up the items she’d draped over her arm one by one, studying uncritically and dividing them into two piles. “Because only half of these are going to make the cut now. I knew you had a hot date; I could tell by the look on your face when you told me what you needed the clothes for. But I didn’t know it was with Troy. This calls for something spectacular.”

  Alison couldn’t agree more. She took the clothes Ella handed her into the small fitting room and pulled the curtain shut. She undressed with quick efficiency and pulled on each of the dresses, skirts, and pants in turn.

  They were all lovely, hugging her figure in all the right places and then falling away gracefully exactly where they should, as well. Still, none of them was the piece. Not until the very last thing she tried on.

  It was a dress, and it was black, but it was anything but basic. Her eyes widened as she looked at herself in the length of the mirror, stunned at what she saw.

  She was beautiful.

  She knew she was attractive. That was one of her “tools of the trade.” It was tough to be a performer without some level of good looks. But she never thought of herself as “pretty.” She was too steely, too determined to fall into that category. Not soft enough. Not frilly enough.

  But there was no denying it as she eyed herself in the dressing room mirror. There was no other word for how the dress made her look.

  She pushed the curtain aside and stepped out of the small dressing room. Ella put her hand to her mouth and then clapped her hands in front of her chest. “Oh my gosh, it’s perfect! Like, more perfect than I could’ve even imagined. So perfect that, even though we just met, I actually feel kind of choked up and proud looking at you in it!”

  Alison smiled. She knew exactly what Ella meant. She’d felt shades of the same emotion herself standing in front of the mirror only seconds before. Then, even though she wasn’t normally a touchy-feely person or someone that connected with people immediately, she followed her impulse and gave Ella a quick hug.

  Dang. Since she’d arrived in Valentine Bay, she’d done nothing but surprise herself.

  “So, you think it’ll be okay?” She already knew the answer, but she wanted the reassurance of hearing Ella say the words.

  “Oh, honey. It’s going to be so much more than okay. It’s going to be fan-freaking-tastic.”

  Chapter 7

  Troy climbed the front porch steps to Alison’s door, feeling stiffly formal in the suit that he hadn’t worn in years. He’d gone back and forth about whether or not he should get all dressed up for the date. He didn’t want to look like he was trying too hard…he also didn’t want to look like he wasn’t trying at all.

  In the end, he’d concluded that if you were given as rare and precious an opportunity as going out with someone as gorgeous as Alison, you erred on the side of trying too hard when it was between that and looking like a slacker.

  In his old life, going the extra mile was a philosophy that had never let him down. He mentally referred to that old life as “LBW.” Sort of an inside joke to himself. It stood for the pro baseball team he used to play for, the Long Beach Waves. But, to him, it stood for so much more. Life Before Worry. Life Before the Weight of the World. But also Life Before Wonder, and Life Before Wisdom.

  When his parents had died unexpectedly in a car accident five years before, and it was clear he’d have to be the one to take care of Mila, he’d thought about bringing her to live with him in Southern California so he could continue his career as a pro ball player, but he’d known that wouldn’t be fair to her. She was only eight years old, had just lost her parents, and was suddenly finding herself in the care of a brother who’d moved out of the house to go to college not long after she was born. Try as he might to justify it, in his heart, he knew he could never tear her away from all of her friends and every person who’d ever known and cared about her.

  So he’d given it all up. The rock star, sports god lifestyle—all gone. He’d negotiated his way out of his contract and moved up to Valentine Bay, where his sister had roots. Hell, it was where his roots were implanted in the soil, as well. His ancestors had founded Valentine Bay, and his family had lived there ever since. He and his brothers had been the first to break away, and the town had pulled them back in, sure enough.

  Since he’d been back, he’d thought of nothing but Mila, making sure she was safe and happy and well-adjusted, making sure he was providing the kind of future for her that his parents would’ve. He hadn’t had time for thoughts of himself. He hadn’t had the mental or emotional room to want anything of his own, even relationships. Hell, especially relationships.

  But he’d taken one look at Alison, heard her singing in that sultry and sweet voice, and his heart and brain had moved everything else aside and made the space. Suddenly, there was room for a relationship, and he didn’t know how it had happened. Only that it had.

  He took a deep breath and knocked. Damn, he felt like a teenager again, waiting for his prom date’s father to answer the door. In reality, it had been almost that long since he’d been on a first date. While this wasn’t exactly breaking new ground, it was definitely retreading old ground that had lain dormant so long that the soil was hard-packed and stiff. Not easy, but oh so worth it.

  The door opened and his heart sped up before he even saw her. When she did step forward into the porch light, it shone down on her like a halo, and that was an apt description. She looked like an angel to him. Her creamy skin and flowing dark hair glinted in the soft yellow light that spilled around her. The dress she wore looked like it had been made specifically for her. It highlighted every curve and dip in her beautiful body, while somehow still leaving plenty to the imagination.

  He was speechless. He couldn’t even draw a breath, let alone form a word.

  She blushed and smoothed down her hair and dress. “Do I have broccoli in my teeth or something?” she giggled.

  “Oh God, no! Sorry. I just…you look…perfect,” he finished lamely.

  She put a hand on his arm. “Way to make a girl self-conscious,” she teased.

  He shook his head. “If you’ve ever felt that way in your entire life, then the world is upside down. Self-conscious is what everyone else should feel when you’re around.”

  Her eyes widened at his words. “Wow. Thank you.”

  “I’m only telling the truth.”

  She smiled. “Well, I like the way you tell it.”

  “Shall we go?” He extended his arm to her.
>
  She closed and locked the door, then slipped her hand in the crook of his elbow. “Absolutely. I’m starving.”

  “I hope you like seafood.” Damn, he’d tossed the comment off as an aside, but it hadn’t even occurred to him to wonder if she did or not.

  “Delicious! Let’s go.”

  Thank God.

  Walking down the path to his truck, Troy felt invincible – ten feet tall, with the strength of a thousand. Having Alison on his arm made him feel more than mortal in every important way, and he could see himself getting addicted to the feeling. God. If he could feel like this all the time? If the way he felt with Alison became his new normal because she was by his side so often?

  Well, hell. That would be too good to be true.

  When they reached his truck, he opened the door for her. She stood still and raised her eyebrows as she tilted her head back to look up into the cab. He chuckled. “Here, let me help you with that.”

  “I think you’re gonna have to. Perils of being short.”

  He slipped his arm around her waist to support her as she hoisted herself up the few feet that the cab was elevated, and he felt it. He didn’t know how to explain it, but he definitely felt it.

  The feeling that he was in the right place, with the right woman, doing the right thing, and going the right direction.

  The feeling like things were going his way and everything was coming together just the way it should.

  Kismet.

  Yeah. That was it. Destiny. Fate. It was all right there.

  Chapter 8

  “Oh, Troy! It’s so good to see you!”

  The hostess greeted Troy with a wide smile that lit up her whole face the instant he followed Alison through the doors of the restaurant. She didn’t even have a second glance for Alison.

  She smiled a little to herself. That was a game she recognized. Between the hostess’ reaction and Ella’s, it told her that Troy was a hot property in town. Valentine Bay’s most eligible bachelor.