Chapter One
“Harmony’s back?” Birley Haynes snapped upright in the office chair. “Have you been listening to gossip?”
“Nonsense. It can’t be gossip if I spoke to her.”
His mother, Brenda, smoothed a wrinkle from her pantsuit and sat in one of the padded chairs in front of his father’s desk.
No, his desk. Birley scribbled a note on a sticky pad and repeatedly flicked the tab on the top of his pen. The click echoed in his ears, keeping time with his racing pulse.
After thirty-plus years running the family business, Haynes Music Academy, his parents were semi-retiring at the end of the year. Was he up to taking over? The last thing he needed was a distraction like Harmony Holdich Corwin, no matter how hot his blood sizzled at hearing her name.
Mischief gleamed in his mother’s dark eyes, or was that the overhead light?
A smile winged across her lips. “I bumped into Harmony at the grocery store, I swear it. Ask Bethany Wilton. She rang us up.”
He grimaced. Hell no. Talking to Bethany about anything, especially outside the academy, would lead to trouble. She worked at Brady’s Foods and Pharmacy and was one of Birley’s best pupils in his advanced pipes class. Unfortunately, she was crushing on him, hard. How long could he ignore the problem, given her constantly batting her eyelids and trying to touch him? She was only in high school, for God’s sake. He had to man-up and speak with her about this—or better yet, speak with her parents.
“I’m proud of you.” Brenda hooked a lock of her dark hair behind her ear. “But you’re always so serious, and you’ve got to live a little. Have fun. You act like you’re my age—a very fine forty-nine—instead of thirty-one.”
He lifted his eyebrow at her exaggeration. His mother was a beautiful, sassy woman, but she was closer to sixty years old than she would ever admit.
“Be young and wild while you can. Go find Harmony. She’s probably at Finnigan’s.”
He snorted and tossed down the pen. Someone had smashed his windshield with a brick the previous week, and he found a dead opossum on the doorstep that morning. What would happen next? “Fun isn’t in my vocabulary, not when I have to worry about vicious pranks.”
The wrinkles around her eyes tightened. “It has to be kids, but who would go that far?”
Not kids. How he knew that, he wasn’t sure, but he’d bet every penny in his bank account on it. Someone was targeting him and the academy. What kind of cretin killed a poor animal, then left the bloody mess on the academy’s porch?
“The police are keeping an eye out for anyone suspicious, so whoever this is will probably stop.” She pursed her lips. “But I’m not here to talk about that. I want you to relax, Birley. Taking a few days off and doing something fun won’t kill you. Dad and I didn’t hand you the reins for you to hide in this office and stop living your life.”
He stiffened. “I took yesterday off.”
“Only because it was Thanksgiving. Whoopee.” She huffed.
“Damn it, Mom. I’m okay. Dylan and Erica are babysitting the kids, so I’m staying late to check some files.”
“You’ve been here all day. Shouldn’t you have finished the paperwork by now?”
“After I spoke with the cops and Animal Control removed the opossum, I spent the morning scrubbing blood from the porch, then testing and cleaning the instruments.” He stuffed a few folders into the plastic cubby tray on his desk. Classes would resume the following Monday, coinciding with the county school system’s schedule, so he had all weekend to clean his apartment and somehow convince his kids to help. Maybe he’d offer them cookies as a reward? His mother’s gaze bore into him, raising the fine hair on his nape. “Thanks for coming in.”
“Fine. Have it your way.” She slapped her knees and stood, then leaned over the cluttered desk to kiss his forehead. She grabbed her coat and purse and left the small office.
A door squeaked, then thudded shut. Silence rang in the large Victorian house.
He breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to the computer. Dozens of client names, account and phone numbers, dates, and payments blurred together as he scrolled to the bottom of the spreadsheet. The numeric pad clicked as he smashed the keys, and he compared the total payments received from the current month to the spreadsheets from the past two Novembers.
Bingo. Profit was up. Offering more classes to accommodate the growing number of students offset the cost of hiring their new instructor—his brother’s fiancée, Erica.
Birley clicked on another document, his vision dulling. He squeezed his eyes shut.
Memories filled his head like random scenes from a movie—Harmony laughing as he teased her, smiling as they danced at prom, crying out his name as they made love. Then sorrow flashing in her eyes on graduation night.
The pain he’d caused her still ate away at him, but hell, he wasn’t the only one at fault.
A lump clogged his throat. How could he concentrate on work with Harmony on his mind? He hadn’t thought of her in months, then bam. She was back, twisting him inside out as she always had.
He strode to the business certificates, college diplomas, and awards on the far wall. His name was embellished on one of the business administration degrees in a cursive font, and he traced his fingertip across the top of the frame. A layer of dust coated his skin. Great. Something else he had to clean. He wiped his hand on his slacks.
The file cabinets and bookshelves lining the perimeter probably needed a good dusting. Not to mention his mother’s framed, signed poster of The Who. That piece of memorabilia was worth a small fortune in the right market. Like she’d ever sell it. Heat blew from the vent beneath the windowsill, clacking the blinds and slicking a fine layer of sweat on his skin.
The comfortable, familiar surroundings used to soothe him. Now, the beige walls boxed him in, constricting him until he struggled to breathe. He freed the top buttons of his shirt and fluffed the lapels. A light breeze dried the moisture beading on his chest. Much better.
Why was Harmony back? She didn’t come home every year for Thanksgiving or Christmas. Had she been in town long? Nah. Secrets never stayed hidden in small towns, especially not in Willow Springs, Vermont. With a population of about three thousand, everyone knew everyone. He would’ve heard about Harmony’s return before now.
He had to see her. Might as well get it over with. Or he would never get any work done.
After he shut down the computer and jerked on his wool coat, he walked down the glittery hallway. The scent of lemon and pine filled his nose.
Christmas had come early and with a vengeance. Even as the acting boss, he had zero say on the decorations. Otherwise, he would toss out the garland, lights, and wreaths littering the place. Maybe he’d keep the decked-out tree in the lobby, but that was it. Maybe.
He turned down the thermostat and set the alarm. Three beeps tinkled like wind chimes from the mounted security panel. Crisp night air nipped his face and hands as he hurried outside and locked up. The overhead light and the strings of holiday lights wrapped around the porch columns pushed back the darkness. Snow crunched as he jogged to his SUV.
Despite the cold, people strolled the downtown sidewalks. White Christmas lights twinkled like fireflies on the bare-limbed trees lining the streets. Several vehicles occupied the parking lot beside the bar, Finnigan’s, but then a car pulled from a parallel spot in front of the two-story brick building.
Birley swooped in and killed the engine. His thumping heart smacked hard against his ribs. If anyone knew where Harmony was, her uncle would. He forced himself from the warm vehicle and into the establishment.
Customer chatter and clinking dishware reverberated through the large room. Classic ’70s rock blasted from discreet speakers. Dim lights cast shadows across the walls and soothed his eyes while the aroma of fried food teased his nostrils. His mouth watered, and his stomach growled. Damn, he shouldn’t have skipped lunch.
Stan Holdich, Harmony’s uncle and the owner of Finnigan’s, stood behind the wall-to-wall bar, serving beer to a group of tourists. He met Birley’s gaze. A grin crossed his ruddy cheeks. He nodded toward the dining area and pulled another bottle from beneath the counter.
Families with kids occupied back-to-back booths. A few smiling couples filled the small round tables scattered throughout. Why had Stan indicated them?
Birley rubbed his neck. The air in his lungs suddenly froze.
Harmony waited tables across the room. Her faded jeans sheathed her ass like a second skin. A clingy tank top molded to the slope of her back. Stray locks escaped the clip restraining her wild brown curls at the top of her head and dangled around her nape.
Good God. Her ass and those hips… If only he could sink his teeth in. His shaft lurched against his zipper. He bit back a moan.
After delivering plates to a family of four, Harmony tucked the serving tray under her arm and stepped toward him. She stumbled to a stop, her eyes widening.
Their gazes locked. White-hot sparks arced between them, or was that his imagination?
Must be. The bar wasn’t aflame.
His pounding heart skipped a beat. She swayed her hips from side to side, mesmerizing him, as she seized the space between them. He rocked back on his heels, then planted his feet on the floor. No yanking her close and devouring her mouth. A quick hug and a peck on the cheek was the best he should hope for.
Harmony set the tray at a vacant booth. Then she leapt the last few feet and flung her arms around him.
He chuckled, stumbling back. Sweet laughter escaped her mouth. How he’d missed that lilting sound. He steadied his feet and held her close. Her soft, pliable body melted against his harder one. Thank God he hadn’t buttoned his coat. The scent of honey drifted from her hair. What was that from—shampoo, body wash? Who cared? He loved it.
A shudder racked his spine. He squeezed her as tight as he dared, but then she pulled back. Not yet, damn it. He clamped his hands on her waist, letting her go just enough to peer down at her smiling face. The top of her head reached his nose.
Wait. What the hell was he doing? Harmony was married.
He bit back a curse, dropping his hands to his sides, and moved back.
“I made a bet with Uncle Stan.” She licked her lips. Her chest rose and fell in an uneven pattern. “After I talked with your mom, I figured I’d be seeing you soon, but tomorrow at the earliest. Stan said you’d track me down today, and now I owe him five dollars.”
He chuckled again, the sound tearing from his gut. “Sorry. If I’d known, I would’ve waited.” Yeah, right. Wild pit bulls couldn’t have kept him away from her. “Do you have a few minutes?”
“Sure, I can go on break. The dinner crowd should hit within the hour, though.” She glanced past him and waved.
Birley turned as Stan bobbed his head. He settled in the private booth, the seat pad squeaking, as she claimed the other side. Silence stretched between them. Inane customer chitchat and clanking dishes morphed into white noise. So many words burned on the tip of his tongue, but his throat tightened.
She laughed, rolling her eyes. “It’s been a long time. Four or five years.”
“We last spoke in July over five years ago when you and your husband were visiting. Is he here?” Birley glanced around the bar again. The dickhead she’d married wasn’t stomping toward them or crouched in a corner somewhere, threatening to kill Birley with a glower. That was new. He frowned at her left hand—no rings?
She slid her hands beneath the table, her eyelids shuttering. “Claude and I aren’t together anymore. It’s a long story.”
“Divorced, huh? I’m sorry to hear that.” He wasn’t, but only a jackass would shout for joy in front of her. “Susannah, my ex-wife, split town about four years ago.” Her betrayal had hurt, but the divorce had been the best thing for him.
“Stan told me about the divorce a while back. Your mom mentioned it today too. Who has custody of the children?”
“I do, thank goodness.” He gritted his teeth. “Andy and Kay weighed Susannah down. As did I. Loving us, taking care of them…it was a chore for her. She has visitation rights, though.”
“Kay is about five years old, right? What about Andy?”
“Yup, she’s five and started kindergarten in August. Andy is seven, in second grade.” He dragged his phone from his slacks pocket and skimmed through several pictures of the grinning kiddos until his favorite one popped up. “This was taken last Christmas.”
She accepted the phone and smiled. “They’re adorable. Wow, that’s a bunch of presents under the tree. Lucky kids.” She winked at him. “Kay was a few months old the last time I was here. She was so little and precious when I held her.”
He swallowed hard, itching to touch her.
Susannah had been furious when she caught Harmony holding Kay. Though she was suffering from postpartum depression and didn’t want anything to do with her infant daughter, she had snatched the baby from Harmony’s arms and stalked away.
Harmony winced, blush stealing into her cheeks. She handed him the device.
Damn. That memory had probably stayed with her too. He slid the phone back into his pocket. “How long are you in town?”
“About a month. My return flight to Miami is on December 29th.”
“Sweet. You must have a great boss in order to take so much vacation time. Do you still work for that juice company? What’s it called—Benacore Juices?”
She bit her lip. The faint lines around her mouth creased.
“Harmony? What is it?” He reached across the table and grasped her warm hand. Static sparked from her to him. At least that wasn’t part of his imagination.
“I didn’t get a divorce. I was planning to, but…” She squeezed his hand, breathing hard. “Everything happened so fast. Claude and I were having problems, but I was willing to work through them. Then I found him in bed with another woman. I filed for divorce, and he moved out. A few weeks later, he was drunk driving and hit a telephone pole. He died on impact.” Her throat bobbed. “No need for a divorce anymore.”
Her sarcastic, pained words lanced his heart. “I’m sorry. That must’ve been rough.”
“Yes, it was. It’s been five months since he died, and I’m trying to get my life back on track.”
“I’m surprised I haven’t heard about this through the grapevine.”
“My family knows, of course, but I asked everyone to keep quiet. Stan obviously did. It’s amazing when secrets stay on the down-low in this little town.”
“Yup. It’s rarer than a hot New England winter.”
“Anyway, I’m—um—still an accountant at Benacore. My boss is giving me extra time to come up with a plan.” She plucked a napkin from the metal dispenser and tore off a few strips. “I could’ve flown to California to see my parents, but Willow Springs is home. I nearly gave Uncle Stan a heart attack when I knocked on his door this morning. Serves me right for not calling first. He offered to let me crash on the sofa, but I’d already made reservations elsewhere.”
“Right. He lives above the bar.” Birley stared at the ceiling and then at the man in question mixing drinks behind the high-top counter. He tsked. If only his and Susannah’s split had been more like Stan’s break-up with his wife. Even though Maribel had an affair and moved three counties over, the former couple remained friends. Must be nice.
“I’m staying at the Deerbourne Inn, and I took the inn’s shuttle from the airport. When it drove by Stan’s old house, I did a double take. Kids were building a snowman in the front yard, right where Randell and I used to play.” Harmony looked around as though to make sure no one was eavesdropping. “The economy is in the tank, so I understand why Stan sold the place. This building—” She tapped the table. “—has been in the Holdich family for years. No way would Stan let Randell’s inheritance go down the drain.”
Birley hadn’t talked with Randell, Stan’s son, for a while, but he followed the man’s minor league baseball career every season. “My parents fell onto hard times with the academy a few years back. We could’ve lost it. Right now, everything is kosher.” Well, it would be, if not for the vandalism and the dead animal. “Nathan, the inn’s new owner, remodeled a few years back and added a restaurant. The changes are amazing.”
“Oh, I know. My room should be featured in a home décor magazine.”
He shifted uncomfortably as she twirled a lock of her hair. Damn. If she’d let him, he would tunnel his fingers through her curls. “Why have you stayed away for so long?”
She shrugged. “Claude always complained when we visited my family, either here or in Cali, and he never liked me traveling alone. To stop the fighting, I made do with talking to Mom, Dad, Stan, and everyone else on the phone or through video chat.”
“My parents drive me crazy sometimes, but I can’t imagine going so long without seeing them.” He fisted his free hand on top of his knee.
Claude had controlled Harmony for so long. At least she’d finally managed to break free.
“I haven’t seen my parents since the funeral, but they’re flying in to spend Christmas with Stan and me. Randell is driving up from Baltimore. Aunt Maribel might even be at dinner.”
“You’ve been through a lot.” He twined his fingers with hers. What the hell had he been thinking? He wasn’t a rebound, damn it, and she deserved more than a lay. Their chemistry, though. How could he deny that?
The thirteen years from their breakup to now had been a stupid waste of time. Could he spare a few months, another year, to give her time to heal? Hell yeah, he would. He’d do anything for Harmony, but he didn’t have much time to spare. She was going back to Miami.
He soothed his scratchy throat with a cough. “I don’t want to take advantage, but would you like to hang out sometime?”
She smiled. “Hang out? What are we—fifteen again?”
“Nope. We’re no longer cash-strapped teenagers. I promise, if you say yes, we won’t stick around here and score free grub from your uncle. I’ll treat you to a real dinner. Candles, tablecloths, the works.”
“Hmm.” She pulled from his grasp and braced her elbows on the tabletop. “You’ve gone from a friends hanging out-type deal to a date. Which is it?”
“Whatever you’re game for. If you want to be friends, that’s fine, but we’re both single now. The stars have aligned in our favor.” His cheeks heated as she laughed. They’d lost touch while in college, and he regretted it. Each time they saw each other over the years, one or both of them was dating someone else, or they were married. “A date could be fun.”
“I was planning to borrow Stan’s car and go skiing tomorrow. Do you want to join me?”
He could swing it, if Dylan agreed to keep the kids longer than planned. He silently laughed at that. All he had to do was tell his brother he was going on a date, and Dylan would offer to keep the kids for the whole weekend.
What about the academy? Should he leave it unguarded? He wasn’t much of a guard anyway. He’d been there during each incident and hadn’t heard or seen a thing.
“Okay, sure.” Birley swiped his hand toward the diners. “Will Stan need you to work?”
“Nah. He has someone lined up to come in tomorrow, if the waitress who’s supposed to be here can’t come. Her son has the flu, and the babysitter canceled at the last minute tonight. Stan couldn’t find anyone to sub for her, so I volunteered.” She fluffed out her tank top, and the fabric cupped the globes of her breasts. “It never fails. I’ve long hung up my waitress hat, but I fall back on my old high school job every time I come home.”
“All right. You, me, and the slopes. It’s a date.” He offered his hand, which she shook. Before she could draw back, he brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles.
“You’re still a charmer.” Her chest shuddered, her pupils dilating. She slipped her hand from his and grasped the tray. “I should get back to work. One of the waitresses keeps staring at me. She’s covering my tables.”
He scooted across the bench and followed her up.
“Meet me downstairs at the inn. Is eight o’clock good for you?” She grasped his arm as he nodded, and she kissed his cheek. “Thanks for stopping by, Birley.”
The flecks of green in her hazel eyes dazzled despite the dim overhead lights. Her face suddenly flushed, her tanned skin deepening to sienna.
He groaned as she walked away, her scrumptious ass shaking with every step. After she hurried past the swinging kitchen door, he rolled his stiff shoulders and dragged air into his lungs. With a hitch in his stride, he left the bar.
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