Walking on Sunshine (3 page)

Along with his performing on guitar as a studio musician, Garret's other role with his father's recording studio was as a talent scout and he absolutely loved finding fresh new voices. Funny that he'd once longed to be famous like his father and now his job was making other musicians into stars.

When Mattie started clearing dishes from tables, Garret realized he'd outstayed the other customers who were starting to leave. By some miracle he'd managed to consume most of his breakfast—even the smothered and covered mountain of hash browns.

“Can I get you anything else?” Mattie asked, and grinned when she saw his nearly empty plate.

“Yes, a crane to heft me out of here.”

Mattie laughed. “Well, there are plenty of activities to do around here this time of year to burn up some calories.”

“Like noodling? Um, I don't think so. And I don't even want to know what mudding is.”

“Well, there are some tamer things to do like swimming, fishing, and hiking. We rent boats and WaveRunners down at the dock if you're interested. My brother Danny can hook you up. Mason is a fishing guide if you want to try your hand at bass fishing. They really do fall for the artificial bait.”

“You swim in the river?”

“Only close to the dock back here in the cove. The current is pretty swift and can be dangerous when you get out into the main channel of the Ohio River. Up near
the dam the river is wide like a lake and we head up there whenever we can to go tubing or water-skiing.”

“Tubing? Sounds a bit odd.”

“Not really. It's when you sit in a big inner tube that's hooked with a ski rope to the back of a boat. You have to hang on for dear life while the driver tries to shake you off by bringing you back over the huge waves from the wake of the boat. Mason takes particular delight in shaking me from the Tube.”

“Again, I think I'll shy away from noodling and tubing and . . . mudding.”

“Hey, it's a small town. We have to make our own fun.”

“How about a good ol' swimming pool? Do you have one of those around by any chance?”

“Sorry.” Mattie laughed. “No concrete pool back here, but we do have a nice-sized lake on the property with campsites nearby.” She shook her head as she handed him his bill. “There are electric hookups, no room service, I'm afraid.”

“Pity.” Garret made a show of sighing. He'd actually done some hiking in some pretty remote places all around the world, but he found it rather amusing for her to think he was a total city boy.

“We provide cabins up by the lake too. My own cabin is located on the opposite side and I have my own little dock. Trust me, it's safe to swim in if you like. And you can just sit in a tube.”

“Now, that I could do.”

“Come on up for a swim any time you like. I only chase strangers away with my shotgun, so you're safe.”

Garret imagined her with a big shotgun and was rendered speechless.

“I'm just kidding.”

Thank God.
“I knew that.”

“Sure you did.” Mattie laughed again. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Garret. I hope you'll come back for breakfast on a regular basis.”

“No doubt about that. You're an amazing cook, Mattie Mayfield.”

“Why, thank you.”

Her smile seemed shy at his compliment, making him wonder if all those blokes took her for granted.

“And it's nice to know you're my neighbor. How far away is your cabin on the lake?” he asked.

“Just a rather short walk through the path in the woods or a couple of miles down the main road that winds through the marina if you go by car. Unless it rains I usually walk.”

“Sounds peaceful.” Garret nodded and he was about to ask if she might show him around later when some customers walked through the door, taking her attention away from him. He left a generous tip and walked outside into the warm sunshine. As he made his way toward his cabin, he realized that he was smiling and that cute little Mattie had put the smile on his face.

Garret paused to take a few pictures of the stone and cedar structure to send to his mother, who lived in London. He missed her dearly and planned to visit her again as soon as he could fit in a bit of a holiday. Although he'd lived in way more luxurious homes in his lifetime, there was just something about this rustic A-frame that drew him in and made him feel at peace. The river view wasn't majestic like an ocean view, but Garret liked the calm sound of the river lapping against the shore.

Because the cabin had been used as a vacation rental, it had been fully furnished, another nice perk, since Garret was so busy traveling back and forth to Nashville. It helped that his stepmother, Maggie, was a real estate agent who did all the legwork for him. Garret shook his head when he thought about his hard-rocker father marrying such a down-to-earth sweetheart like Maggie. Garret adored Maggie, who in some ways reminded him of his London-born mother, who was much more grounded than people realized. He certainly would never have guessed that his dad would ever settle down at all, much
less in a small town like Cricket Creek. And running a record label geared toward bluegrass and country music was another surprise. But then again, he'd always thought his dad had been living the life of his dreams when that couldn't have been further from the truth.

Garret understood. His own badass thumbing-his-nose-at-the-world persona that he'd created over the years was a complete farce. If Addison Monroe hadn't seen through him and called him out on it before giving back his engagement ring, he might still be chasing a dream he never really wanted in the first place. Like his father, music pumped through his blood with every heartbeat. But fame? He no longer cared and thank God he hadn't stooped to become a reality show star laughingstock. When Addison had called him out on wanting to marry her so that they could star in their own television show, she hadn't been far from the truth. Creating amazing music in the studio and searching for new talent were much more rewarding.

Garret snapped a few pictures of the cabin and then took a few more of Mayfield Marina. When he heard shouting he turned around and laughed when he saw Mattie chasing the dog better known as the ham bandit.

“Rusty, get your sorry hide back here!” she yelled.

Chuckling, Garret took a video with his phone, wondering what tasty treat Rusty had snatched from the kitchen this time. When the ham bandit got away Mattie stood there with her hands on her hips and stomped one foot before taking angry strides back into the restaurant.

Still grinning, Garret opened the front door and decided to brew a bit more coffee to enjoy while sitting on the back deck that overlooked the marina and cove. While he'd someday take the time to put his personality into the décor, for right now the sturdy functional furniture was perfect.

Later that evening Garret thought he'd take a jog after the heat of the day dissipated. And just
maybe
he'd
end up on the trail in the woods leading to Mattie's home by the lake. Garret had to grin. There wasn't a
maybe
in that thought. Although he knew he wasn't Mattie's type, since she seemed to be so into Colby, there was just something about her that made him want to get to know her better. He'd never had a girl who was only a friend, and the thought suddenly appealed to him. While the coffee brewed, Garret went into his office and picked up his laptop so he could make notes for the meeting with Shane and Maria.

Garret inhaled the pungent scent and smiled while thinking that not too long ago he didn't even know how to make his own coffee—or rather wouldn't have been
bothered
to make it and would have felt the need to have a barista create a frothy something or other with a long list of ingredients. Garret poured the strong coffee into the mug and smiled. Simplicity felt so much better. While he knew that he still had a way to go on his journey of self-discovery, he liked this new sense of purpose. And though he and Addison weren't meant to be together, he'd missed her friendship after their breakup. In the end Addison had seen through his false bravado. She'd told him that there was more to him than what he'd given himself credit for and she had challenged him to have the courage to dig deep and find it. The fact that Addison had truly cared about him had seeped into his bones and made him stronger, unbreakable. He thought again that he was so over being the bad boy son of a famous rock star and international fashion model. Instead of being famous for being famous, he wanted to create a career based on his own talent and accomplishments.

Taking his coffee and laptop out onto the back deck, he settled into the cushioned lounge chair and started brainstorming. He'd once turned his nose up at country music, thinking the down-home genre of music to be beneath him. But after meeting and working with the brilliant Maria Sully, he'd, well, changed his tune. Shane McCray
was a Country Music Hall of Fame legend. His classic country songs transcended time and spoke to Garret on a basic level that he'd ignored in the past.

Timeless
, Garret typed and then smiled when sparks of inspiration starting flooding his brain. He laughed, thinking that his brain was so happy to be used for something worthwhile that the ideas came faster than he could type. When he finally took another sip of coffee, it had gone cold, but he didn't care and drank it anyway. The meeting with Maria and Shane was going to be fantastic.

Skinny-Dipping

S
HANE STRIPPED OFF HIS SWEATY RUNN
ING CLOTHES AND
let them drop into a soggy heap behind a potted plant on the pool deck. He added his shoes to the pile, peeled off his socks, and then dove into the deep end. The water felt deliciously soothing, sliding against his overheated body. He'd pushed too hard during his run, but now that he was retired he wanted to remain in decent shape. After breaking the surface, Shane flipped to his back and simply drifted. As he gazed up at the light blue sky dotted with fluffy clouds, he realized that he hadn't felt this calm in way too long.

Shane would never be ungrateful enough to complain about his success as a country music star, but the downside to fame was never having enough hours in the day to enjoy the fruits of his labor. His career had also cost him his marriage to his high school sweetheart, a woman he still at times missed. Thinking about Patsy brought a sigh past his lips. His ex-wife had moved on and was remarried with three children and he thought maybe two grandkids by now. They'd remained friendly, but the pain of the divorce caused Shane to never seriously consider
marriage again. Shane wondered if Patsy knew how many of his early songs were written about loving her. Missing her. When they'd fallen in love their senior year in high school, neither of them could have predicted that just a few years later Shane would shoot to the top of the country music world so swiftly and stay there. Patsy simply couldn't deal with his absence, and God knows Shane often wondered if his career had been worth it. He didn't give a damn about the money or fame. He had remained a simple man with simple needs. In truth it was the fans that had kept him going. Shane knew all too well how much music meant to people.

It wasn't as if he still pined for Patsy every day, but since his retirement he had time to reflect upon his life and wonder what the future might bring. Always surrounded by people and yet he still suffered from bouts of loneliness.

Shane kicked his feet, sending water splashing. The direction of his thoughts disturbed his peaceful floating, so he pushed them aside and let music drift into his head.

Shane watched an eagle soar high up in the sky and smiled. One of the perks of moving from Nashville to his secluded home in Cricket Creek was the privacy. Nestled as it was deep in the woods on a hillside overlooking a winding section of the river, Shane no longer had to worry about paparazzi snapping pictures or tourist buses driving past his house. Nope, the only eyes possibly on him were animals scampering through the woods.

Shane flipped over and swam a few leisurely laps. Other than helping his songwriter friend Maria Sully with Sully's South, her showcase venue for discovering new music talent, the only thing Shane had to worry about was where he'd go fishing next. Having free time still felt odd, but he supposed he'd get used to it. He didn't want to be one of those stars who had a huge last tour hurrah only to come back a year later.

After a few more minutes Shane's stomach rumbled in empty protest and he hoped he'd find something in
the fridge to eat for breakfast, which was the only meal he was capable of making. Flipping an egg was about as far as his cooking skills could take him. Unfortunately going to the grocery store was still an adventure where he walked around in a confused daze.

While there were a few excellent restaurants in Cricket Creek, Shane wanted to keep his existence on the down low. Nashville wasn't all that far from Cricket Creek and he sure didn't want to ruin his newfound privacy by luring the paparazzi to this small town. Nope, that would really suck, he thought, and decided he needed to watch some cooking shows now that he had the time. He'd read in the local paper that the chef at Wine and Diner conducted cooking classes, so perhaps he could sharpen his culinary skills and discover a new hobby. Learning to cook might be fun and serve a purpose as well.

After one last lap Shane glided to the side of the pool and hefted his body up over the edge. He stood up, letting the water sluice down his body. The warmth of the sunshine felt good and he closed his eyes and tilted his face upward. With a long groan he raised his arms above his head and stretched out the kinks.

“Oh dear God, you're naaaaa-ked!”

“What?” Startled, Shane opened his eyes and encountered a red-haired woman he'd never seen before. He lowered his hands to shield himself. Where in the hell had she come from? At least she didn't have a camera. She covered her eyes with her hands and took a big step backward.

“I . . . I . . .”

“Watch out for the lounge chair behind you,” Shane warned when she nearly fell into it. The back of her calves hit the metal edge and she did a little hoppy side step, looking as if she were ready to start a line dance. Coming to an unsteady halt, she nodded but kept her eyes covered. Her flaming cheeks were nearly the same color as her hair. With her eyes still hidden she said, “I'm so,
so
sorry!” Her purse slid from the shoulder of her white
blouse and hit the pavement with a thud. She dropped a folder she was carrying, causing papers to scatter.

“It's okay.” Shane glanced around for his clothes but couldn't remember where he'd shed them, thinking that he could remember the lyrics to hundreds of songs but forgot where the hell he'd left his clothes just a little while ago. “But if you don't mind if I ask, who are you?” He looked around again, thinking perhaps he should jump back into the water.

“Laura Lee Carter. I . . . I'm here about the housekeeping position. I went to the front door, but there was no answer and I s-saw your truck and . . . and I thought I'd check back here, um, here. I . . . I was supposed to interview with you at ten.”

“Oh, I thought that was tomorrow,” Shane admitted, thinking that having a personal assistant was something he was really going to miss.

“I'll come back another time,” she offered, and hastily turned around but hit the chair again.

“No, hey, listen this is totally my fault. I just need to get dressed,” he said. “As soon as I figure out where I left my clothes.” Seriously what the hell? Did his damn shorts just get up and walk away? Was a raccoon wearing his running shoes? “They've got to be around here somewhere.”

She nodded but looked as if she wanted the ground to open up and swallow her up. He also noted that Laura Lee wore a plain blue pencil skirt hitting just above the knees and sensible blue pumps. She probably thought the outfit was all business, but Shane found the understated look somehow sexy and to his horror his body reacted. “Um . . .” He spotted a towel draped on the chair behind her. Thank God for small favors. “Laura Lee, there's a towel on the lounge chair. Would you please toss it to me?”

“Oh . . . oh, sure.” She nodded vigorously, allowing a lock of her hair to escape the neat bun she had perched near the top of her head. The breeze blew the deep red curl across her face just before she whipped around to
retrieve the towel. She turned back to him with her one hand still over her eyes and gave the towel a hard toss, sending it sailing over his head and into the pool. It amused Shane that she didn't simply close her eyes but felt the need to add her hand as protection against the possibility of viewing him naked again. Perhaps he wasn't in that great shape after all.

Laura Lee lowered her hand and looked at him. “You're still naaaa-ked!” she sputtered, forgetting for a second to shield her eyes. “And oh my God, are you Shane McCray?”

“In the, um, flesh,” he said, hoping to make her laugh. He'd left out his real name in the ad, not wanting to give away where he lived or attract the wrong people. “You tossed the towel in the pool.”

“Oh! I did?” Laura Lee surprised him by hurrying past him, dropping to her knees, and looking into the water. “I see it!”

He suddenly remembered that his clothes were behind a big potted plant near the deep end of the pool. “Laura Lee,” he began, but before he could stop her she reached for the edge of the rapidly sinking towel and tumbled headfirst into the water with a big splash.

Shane's first impulse was to laugh, but when she flailed her arms around he thought that perhaps she couldn't swim. The water would only be slightly over her head, but he knew that when people thought they were drowning they panicked. “Here!” Shane leaned forward, offering his hand, but more of her hair had escaped, obscuring her vision.

And then she went under.

“Dammit!” Without wasting another second Shane jumped in and dove beneath the water. He reached for her, but as he suspected she was a tall woman and was able to stand up.

“Here,” Laura Lee said with a little cough. Pushing the hair from her face, she shoved the wet towel in his direction. “Sorry. Again.”

Shane took the heavy wet towel from her and wasn't quite sure if he should laugh or give Laura Lee a polite thank-you. For someone who was used to dealing with some pretty crazy situations, this one sure did take the cake. He wrapped the towel around his waist and tied the edges into a knot and tried not to chuckle at her expense.

“Well . . . I guess as interviews go, this pretty much puts me out of the running, so if you don't mind I'll just be on my way,” she said with a slight quiver in her tone. When she started to wade through the water, Shane reached over and tapped her shoulder.

“Laura Lee?”

She slowly turned around.

“Are you kidding me? You dove into the pool to retrieve my towel. I'd say that goes beyond the call of duty and tells me that you'd be an excellent employee.”

Laura Lee's mouth twitched and he didn't know if she was going to laugh or burst into tears. “In all honesty I fell, but let's go with the diving-in, excellent-employee theory,” she said.

Shane finally laughed so hard that he slapped the water, splashing her. “Oh, sorry.”

“I'm already soaked, so no harm done,” Laura Lee said, making him laugh even harder.

“When can you start?”

“Seriously?” She blinked at him and even with smudged mascara and a sopping-wet bun sliding to the side, Laura Lee Carter was one pretty woman. Not that he would hire her for that reason. “Do you want to see my résumé?” She looked over her shoulder. “Oh, gone with the wind, I'm afraid.”

For some reason Shane found her comment hysterically funny and laughed again. When she appeared a bit distraught he cleared his throat and tried for a serious tone. “So, tell me what it said on your résumé.”

“Well . . .” When she lifted her chin and tried for a businesslike expression, he had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. He was draped in a towel and she
was fully clothed complete with her sensible shoes, standing in his pool. “I've had my own housekeeping business for the past year. I know that's not all that long, but I have several references to vouch for my excellence. I've lived in Cricket Creek all my life. If you wish to do a background check you will see that I've not had as much as a parking ticket. To find wrongdoing you'd have to go all the way back to high school when I got detention.”

“And what did you do?”

“I broke the dress code by wearing my skirt too short.”

“What a rebel,” Shane said, and she finally laughed.

“I know, right?” She gave him a slight grin. “Actually my legs were growing way too fast for the length of my clothes, but I rather like the rebel idea.”

“So, what got you into the housekeeping business?” Shane asked.

“It's always been my dream. Much like you and country music, I imagine. I'm just living the life, you know?”

He laughed. “No, seriously.”

“Do you want the truth or the sugarcoated version?” Laura Lee asked, and then shook her head, making droplets fly. “I don't know why in the world that just came out of my mouth.”

“Because I asked?”

“No, I mean—”

“Hey, I like straight shooters,” Shane interrupted. “Don't sugarcoat it.”

Laura Lee gave Shane a long look and then said, “I was married to a jackass who didn't allow me to work because it would detract from me waiting on him and keeping his house spotless. I got really good at cooking and cleaning.”

“Allow you?” The notion infuriated Shane.

She shrugged. “I was at the tail end of the baby boomers. I thought I was doing the right thing by pleasing him just like I watched my mother do for my daddy. I believed it was my wifely duty.”

“Was? Good for you.”

“You got that right.” She gave him a short laugh.

“Tell me more,” Shane said, and for some reason he couldn't explain he had to know her story. “If you don't mind.”

“You really want to know?”

“I do, but only if you want to tell me.”

She hesitated but then said, “Well, Jack . . .
short for jackass
 . . . traveled a lot for his job and had been cheating on me for years while he ignored me. He depleted our retirement account and savings in the process. Because of that, I did get the house in the divorce settlement, but I couldn't afford to maintain it, so I sold it.” She paused and then said, “I used the money to buy a van, slapped my logo on the side, and started cleaning houses. Not glamorous but good honest work.” She paused again and then added, “My story kinda sounds like one of your sad songs.”

Shane tossed his head back and laughed. He was about to feel sorry for her, but she was a feisty redhead who had stiffened her backbone and landed on her feet. She laughed too, but there was a bit of a haunted quality in her green eyes that hit him in the gut. “You're a steel magnolia.”

“Damn straight.”

“So, did it say all that in your résumé?”

“No, and I can't believe I just told you all that personal stuff.”

“I asked, remember?”

“You did. But hey, this is a small town and we all know a lot about each other, so it doesn't really bother me to tell. Good thing Jack moved away, because he wasn't welcome at too many places around Cricket Creek.”