Nights Under the Tennessee Stars Page 8

  “I like that about it, too.” Erin was glad to hear that Remy had coughed up some kind of punishment to keep his daughter accountable for her actions. Not that it was any of her business, as he’d been quick to point out.

  Yet the intimacy of that quiet conversation with him, talking about his problems with his daughter while Sarah slept and the coffeepot gurgled... Something about it had stuck with her, reminding her of all Erin was giving up by turning her back on dating.

  “Let me see if Ally can step outside to say hello,” Bethany suggested. “Sarah, she’s a senior in the local high school. I’m sure she’d like to meet you.”

  “That would be great!” Sarah’s sunny disposition didn’t hint at any problems back home, but Erin wondered what it had been like to lose her mom as a teen.

  Erin had been a straight-up mess at Sarah’s age, and she hadn’t lost her mother—just struggled to stay level in a household where her parents’ ups and downs dictated everything in the Finley family. Although when Diana locked herself in her room for weeks straight and didn’t answer no matter how hard they knocked and pleaded, sometimes it felt as if her mother had died.

  “Here.” Sarah thrust the big green garbage bag at her, pulling Erin out of old memories. “Dad said you were collecting women’s career wear, so I asked the innkeeper and a couple of her neighbors for donations. There’s nothing great in there, but I did score a couple pairs of barely worn leather pumps that will last someone a lot of years.”

  “That’s fantastic.” Erin peeked in the bag, impressed at the energy and initiative from someone so young. “Thank you so much for doing that.”

  “No probs!” She waved off the thanks. “But you know, put in a good word for me with my dad that I’m not a total screwup? I wanted to go with him on a meeting with his camera crew in Franklin today, but he didn’t even wake me up when he left this morning.”

  She rolled her eyes and laughed it off, but Erin heard the frustration beneath. Why was he leaving his daughter alone in a strange town if he was worried about her getting into trouble? It didn’t make sense.

  “I’m sure he knows you’re not a screwup.” Erin set the bag on the ground as the pack of teens returned to their convertible on the other side of the parking lot.

  One of them whistled and Sarah’s attention was already zeroed in on the boys in the front seat.

  “Yum,” she said aloud before covering her mouth with one hand and giggling. “That is—sorry, Ms. Finley. I just figured as long as I’m in town I might as well go to that dance.”

  Sarah’s attention wandered again as Ally and Bethany emerged from the back of the store.

  “Sarah, this is my daughter, Ally.” While Bethany made introductions, the girls arranged to meet at the village green later, where Lucky’s Grocer and Restaurant would host the first Outdoor Night of the season.

  The local market backed up to the village square, and the town council had given Lucky’s Grocer special permission to set up outdoor tables that spilled into the park at the center of town. It occurred on only one night a week during the warm months, but everyone looked forward to the Friday nights. Families arrived early and brought their food to the playground. Teens stayed late and took over the swings after the younger crowd cleared out. For everyone else, there was beer and ribs and dancing under the stars to live music.

  Bethany winked at Erin while the girls chatted. “I pulled Ally off the register. We waited until the store was empty, but I can run back inside—”

  “No.” Erin picked up the bag of clothes. “You’ve got your appointment. I’ll head in and maybe I’ll see you at Lucky’s later?”

  “You’re going?”

  Erin shrugged. “Might as well. It’s an easy way to see people and I’ve stuck close to home since I’ve been back in town.”

  Bethany nodded, a thoughtful look in her eye. “I’ve noticed. I’m glad you’re getting out more.” She touched the ends of Erin’s hair, the strands that were newly colored warm bronze. “I don’t know what happened with that former guy of yours, but I’m glad to see you’re coming back to life.”

  Erin’s chest ached at the reminder. It sucked to be someone’s fool.

  “How about you?” she asked, eager to deflect the conversation from her failed relationship. “Will you be there?”

  Bethany shook her head. “I try not to ask Scott for dates. We’re not there yet, and I don’t want to put too much pressure on him.” She swallowed hard. “I’m trying to give him space and time to see what we had and what we could have together again. But it’s not easy.”

  Erin nodded. “I don’t imagine it would be.”

  As Sarah and Ally finalized plans to meet later, Bethany headed toward the heavy-duty pickup truck she drove with the Finley store name painted on one side. Erin watched her go, wondering how a woman could pour so much of herself into a marriage and a man—a good man, for all Scott’s flaws—and still feel so lonely.

  Her heart broke for them. But it made Erin all the more certain of her decision to keep her boundaries in place where Remy Weldon was concerned.

  * * *

  OBTAINING ALCOHOL AT eighteen years old was ridiculously easy. And since her father wasn’t around anyway...why not?

  Sarah patted the six-pack on the passenger seat of her car now that she’d reclaimed her driving privileges after putting in her time being grounded. She congratulated herself on another successful liquor store run.

  Four days in Heartache, Tennessee, and she was already working the town like a local. She had a place to go on a Friday night, and a fun new friend to hang out with. Sure, her dad had blown off her every attempt to work with him this week, citing her punishment of being “grounded,” but honestly—screw him. She knew he didn’t care about being a father to her now that her mom was gone. He might have cared once, but now? Every day that he made excuses not to hang out with her only made her feel worse. If he wasn’t looking out for her, who would protect her?

  There’d been a time when they did stuff together every weekend. But maybe that had only been to impress her mom. Too bad Sarah had really bought it. Ever since her mother died, Remy was stuck working and being sad all the time. He’d moved them out of that gargantuan house he’d built in Lafayette, Louisiana, and transplanted them to Miami, which she hated. Then he’d just retreated from her and everything else. Except for work. Oh sure, he pawned her off on people all the time. Responsible adults like the Stedders who could watch her 24/7. This was the first time in two years she’d pushed his hand to spend time with her and he was running away every chance he got.

  If he couldn’t be bothered with her, she’d find someone, or something, else to entertain her. Like a dance under the stars, a new dress and the name of the cute driver of the hot convertible she’d seen in the parking lot behind Last Chance Vintage today. Lucas Maynard.

  Yum.

  Ally Finley had warned Sarah to steer clear of him in a text she’d sent earlier. He had a girlfriend, apparently. But after the way Lucas had looked at Sarah, she had figured the girlfriend couldn’t be serious. The beer on the front seat had his name on it, in fact. Because really, the drinking thing was only a little bit for her. Mostly it paved the way with boys, who were always impressed and grateful at her ability to secure the goods.

  Steering her car around the village square once to get the lay of the land, Sarah smiled with pleasure at how easy it had been this time. She’d sat outside the liquor store until a young guy pulled up alone. He hadn’t been supercute, but then, that was just what she’d needed. The guys who were a little sloppier looking were all the more surprised and flattered that a girl needed help. Guys loved to play hero when she explained her “I forgot my license” dilemma.

  She cranked her tunes as she spotted Lucas’s convertible. Sarah checked her lip gloss in the rearview mirror. Adrenaline pumping, she could almost forget about her dad ignoring her and the letter still hidden away in her purse. She pulled into a parking space behind the convertible a
nd told herself that after some beer and some Lucas Maynard, she wouldn’t care any more about those things.

  Tonight, she planned on having the time of her life.

  * * *

  IF NOT FOR his daughter, Remy would have never shown up in Heartache’s small-town square that night.

  Exhausted from a killer week of work, he’d spent all day on the road scouting locations, constantly on the phone trying to confirm the guest host for the remaining episodes. Remy had been looking forward to a quiet night at the Heartache B and B and—finally—a real conversation with his daughter about what was going on in her world, maybe over a nice dinner. But she’d requested a video chat at midday, reminding him that her four-day grounding was supposed to be over. Since he’d been in a meeting, he’d rescinded the punishment—a stricter one than what he would have done in the past, but Erin’s words about forcing Sarah to take some responsibility for her actions had resonated. He’d been glad to give his daughter back the car privileges, confident she’d learned her lesson.

  Unfortunately, he’d returned to town to discover a note that she’d gone here—to the dance Erin had mentioned on Tuesday.

  Remy stood on the fringes of the mayhem that spilled out of Lucky’s Grocer and Restaurant. A bluegrass band worked their banjo strings with a fierceness that a Louisiana boy could appreciate—if only he’d been in the mood. Remy wanted to find Sarah and get out of there.

  Simple.

  Except the first person his gaze found in the crowd of people dancing under the stars happened to be Erin Finley.

  He told himself that was normal enough. She was practically the only person he knew in town besides Sarah and the lady who ran the Heartache B and B. Wouldn’t it be human nature for his eye to gravitate toward a face he recognized?

  Too bad he didn’t fool himself for a second. Especially when he hadn’t seen her face yet, not when she danced with her back to him, her arms around a smiling dude old enough to be her grandfather. Remy had recognized her silhouette in a floral sundress paired with a dark denim jacket and cowboy boots. He recognized the way she moved—more functional efficiency than traditionally feminine. And, yeah, he realized exactly how much that revealed about the amount of time he’d spent thinking about her.

  Cursing himself and his stupid level of observation, he plowed through the crowd toward the dance floor. He’d ask her if she’d seen his daughter and then he’d get out of here.

  A few swirling skirts brushed against his legs as he moved through the dancers. He tried not to scowl when two-stepping couples forced him off the direct path to Erin and her dancing partner. Remy didn’t know what tipped the guy off, but the gray-haired man seemed to know who Remy had in mind as a target, and by the time he reached them, the old-timer was already stepping away from Erin and passing her hand over to Remy.

  “Erin.” Well, this was awkward. “I don’t mean to interrupt.”

  “Remy.” Her cheeks were flushed from the dance, her whole demeanor softer and sweeter than he’d seen it before. Her smile seemed genuine, too, but her hand remained suspended in midair for a moment before she lowered it quickly.

  Was there a better way to prove you’d been brought up in a barn with no manners than to leave a pretty girl hanging? Damn it, damn it.

  Politeness got the better of him and he took her hand and stepped into the place of the man who’d held her a second ago.

  “You don’t need to—” she started.

  “I still remember the steps.” His words were gruffer than he’d intended. But how could she know what it was like for him to touch a woman’s waist through a sheer silk dress? To hold her soft palm in his and see manicured fingernails resting along the back of his hand?

  He liked that her nails were still painted jet black though she’d lightened up the inky strands of her hair. There was a toughness about her that he admired. It helped to think about that instead of the fact that she smelled like amber.

  “I can see you know the steps.” Erin spun with him under a yellow Chinese lantern, keeping pace with him so they didn’t run into the couple ahead of them or slow down the couple behind. “If you weren’t scowling so hard your eyes are crossed, I might almost think you liked to dance.”

  He shook his head and hoped his expression relaxed. He was tense.

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” Erin moved with him easily, her body sleekly athletic and her steps unencumbered despite the boots she wore. “We can step off the floor over there.” She pointed to a spot opposite the band where the crowd was a little thinner.

  He felt so grateful for the offer, he could have kissed her, which was exactly not what he wanted to think about.

  “Thanks. It’s so crowded.” He let her take the lead as they reached the far edge of the floor, at least until some big, drunk dude stood in her path.

  Protectiveness surged.

  Keeping his grip on her hand, Remy edged past her, politely staring the guy down, and kept them moving away from everyone else until they were almost in a pine tree thicket. He turned back to speak to her, but she gestured forward.

  “Just through there is a walking trail, if you’d like to get some air. It’s quieter.” She kept her hand in his even now.

  Or was he holding on to her?

  Maybe he made her self-conscious about it, though, because as he stared at their entwined fingers, Erin let go.

  “My turn to be sorry,” she murmured, jamming her hands into the pockets of her denim jacket as they reached a wooden bridge over a small stream.

  A sign with reflective letters glinted in the moonlight, reading Park Closed at Dusk. Up ahead, he saw fenced baseball fields and a wooden pavilion. The bluegrass music floated through the trees, the lights of the dance still visible, but softer. He’d go back and look for Sarah in a minute, once he’d cleared his head.

  “Don’t be sorry.” Remy leaned on one of the bridge’s thick wooden handrails. “I’m the King of Awkward around you, Erin, and that’s my fault, not yours.”

  She hoisted herself up onto the handrail to take a seat beside him, her cowboy boots dangling over the bridge.

  “That’s awesome because I’m usually the awkward one. I appreciate you letting me off the hook.”

  “Ever the gentleman,” he remarked wryly, knowing he’d been anything but with her from the moment he’d barged into her store after hours and dripping wet, to the way he’d let his daughter have a meltdown in Erin’s office. “You’ve been the unlucky beneficiary of the Weldon family craziness this week, that’s for sure.”

  Out here, he seemed to relax a little bit. He didn’t feel the same tension that he had experienced on the crowded dance floor. The sound of the rushing brook and the soft breeze rustling the leaves helped ease some of the resentment he felt at his attraction to Erin. Even better, he didn’t need to be on guard to keep her safe from so many strangers.

  “How’d your meeting go today?” she asked, tucking a strand of dark hair behind one ear.

  The moonlight spilled over her in a way that made everything a shade of gray.

  “It went well. Some of the guys on the crew think I ought to take over as the host for this segment, but I’m not sure.” He shrugged. “How did you know I had a meeting?”

  “Sarah came by the store today and mentioned you went without her.” Erin traced the design on the skirt of her sundress and Remy realized it wasn’t a floral pattern like he’d thought.

  The design was a tropical beach scene. A girl balanced coconuts in a basket on one hip while a canoe rested at her feet, just out of the surf. It looked hand painted.

  “Have you seen Sarah tonight?” He didn’t want to get into another discussion about his daughter’s problems, hating to be disloyal to her even though Erin’s insights had helped him. “She sent me a text that she’d be here, but I haven’t spotted her.”

  “I saw her when I first arrived. She’s with my niece, Ally, and some of her friends.” Erin didn’t seem worried.

  But
then, she didn’t know Sarah’s history.

  “I had hoped to speak to her tonight,” he found himself confiding.

  Ah hell. Talking to this woman was just too damned relaxing. Especially when he was overworked and overtired. What was it about Erin that made it so easy to be around her?

  He hefted himself up onto the wooden rail beside her. They weren’t touching, but the spot made for close quarters.

  Erin shifted slightly. “The teenagers usually park their cars alongside the playground area. They kind of tailgate during the early part of the evening, and then they take over the dark end of the town square once it gets late. Ally said some of them were bringing stuff for laser tag tonight, but if you want, we can go back and check on them?”

  He debated. Sometimes his daughter seemed upset he didn’t pay more attention to her. But if he interrupted when she was making new friends...she might not thank him, either.

  “In a few minutes maybe. Laser tag sounds fun.” Maybe being here would be good for Sarah. She could be a kid and roam around town with more freedom than what he liked for her to have in Miami. “She just turned eighteen, so I’m trying not to be Joe Overprotective. But she’s still in school and it’s been a rough couple of— Crap.” He shook his head. “I told myself I wasn’t going to burden you with this stuff even if you are way too easy to talk to.”

  “I bet I’m only easy to talk to because I don’t flirt with you.” Erin quit tracing the pattern on her dress with her black-painted fingernail. Her pale eyes met his in the moonlight. “Women must hit on you constantly.”

  “You’ve seen my great dance moves.” He didn’t know how else to handle that one. Women did hit on him. “My wife used to say they only liked me for the accent.”