Chapter 1

Truly

 

“Y’all aren’t going to believe what I heard this morning.” Mrs. Agnes Abernathy blew into Delta Dawn’s Beauty Palace like an Eastern Carolina Hurricane.

There were two things you could count on in a small Southern town—God and gossip. As a preacher’s daughter who’d gotten knocked up out of wedlock, I was no stranger to either.

To tune Agnes out, I turned my blow dryer on high. The last thing I needed was to get behind with my first client. I had a full day of hair and nail appointments, a mountain of night school homework, and double the kindergarten registration forms to complete before I could drag myself to bed.

Ms. Hazel patted my arm and shouted, “Turn that off for a second. This sounds like it’s gonna be good.”

“Sure thing.” I held in a sigh and hit the power button.

“What happened?” Delta, my grandma, set down her hairspray and gave Agnes her full attention. She always perked up at the promise of snooping through someone else’s dirty laundry.

For the owner of a beauty parlor, a red-hot rumor was more than a chance to be nosey. It meant an increase in walk-in business. The only thing folks in these parts loved more than hearing gossip was giving their opinions about it.

“Hold your horses. I’m getting ready to blow your minds.” Agnes grinned like she’d found the winning lottery ticket. “Truly, come over here. You’re going to want to hear this.”

I cringed before I could stop myself. Gossip in Swans Harbor worked a lot like that old game, Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon. If she wanted me to hear it, Agnes’s rumor was probably about me or someone I cared about.

Thankfully, my phone rang.

“Saved by the bell.” I grinned until I glanced at the Raleigh number. “I need to take this.”

Agnes blew out a frustrated breath. “Fine, then I’ll wait.”

Delta raised a brow and mouthed, “Lawyer?”

I nodded and hurried to the back porch. “Hello.”

“Hey, Truly. Do you have a moment? It’s about your cases.” Macy sounded far too chipper to be discussing legal matters.

My already frazzled nerves sparked like downed power lines. “Hi. Yes. Of course.”

Macy and I had been college roommates until I’d dropped out when I’d gotten pregnant. While we’d drifted apart after I left Duke, she was the first person I thought of when I decided to explore my legal options. Macy had taken one look at both my cases and declared she’d work for me pro bono.

“I heard back from the Las Vegas coroner’s office. Eli’s blood and tissue samples were destroyed before they received the court order.”

She’d warned me establishing paternity this way was a long shot, but I’d insisted we try. It wasn’t the twins’ fault their father had not only never gotten around to signing their birth certificates, but died without a will. “What about the grandparents’ DNA tests?”

Macy’s tone hardened. “Mavis and Harold Vaughn refused to submit a sample.”

“Because they stand to inherit everything.” I would never forgive Eli’s parents for robbing my girls of a share in their father’s estate. It wasn’t like I was asking for millions, just enough to keep a roof over their heads and food in their bellies, and maybe, some money for college.

“Has Mavis asked to see Paisley and Skylar?”

“Not since the funeral.” I understood money made people do horrible things, but I couldn’t understand how Mavis could turn her back on her granddaughters. Whether she legally claimed them or not, they were her flesh and blood.

“That’s sad for her and the girls.” She drew a deep breath. “We still have the intellectual property case.”

“I guess.” Establishing paternity was one thing, but outright suing my daughters’ father was a different kettle of fish. Sure, he’d never given me credit for the music I’d written, but the whole IP lawsuit thing felt gross. Especially now that Eli was dead.

“I sent your copyright certifications, the pertinent correspondence between you and Eli, and an infringement notice to the record company. As expected, they refuted your claim to the songs you wrote.” She sounded far more optimistic than I felt.

“What’s the next step?”

“We take them to court. I’d like you to come in and read over everything before I file the suit. You can sign the papers while you’re here.”

Between the prospect of a two-hour drive, the lawsuit, and my life in general, I desperately needed to blow off some steam. My body must have agreed because I laughed in Macy’s ear.

“You still cackle when you’re freaked out?” She chuckled.

My face burned. “You know me too well.”

“We’ll get through this, Tru. What can I do to make it easier on you?”

“Can you email the papers to me? I don’t have a morning off until the twins start school.” I paced the back porch to clear my head. “Plus, I need to slow down and think this through.”

“I’ll send them now.” The sound of Macy’s typing filled the line. “I understand why you’re hesitant, but think about what this money could mean for you and the girls.”

“Paisley and Skylar are the only reasons I’m even considering this…” I struggled to swallow back the emotion clogging my throat. “It’d be different if Eli was still alive, but doing this now seems… I don’t want to dirty his legacy.”

“I hear what you’re saying. And yes, Eli’s accident was a tragedy, but you wouldn’t be in this situation if he was alive. You could get this sorted out with a simple phone call.”

There was more to the situation than sullying Eli’s memory. I had the girls to think about. “I’m worried about how the twins will feel when they find out I sued their dad. Once the press gets wind of the court case, everyone in town will be talking about it. There’ll be no keeping it from them.”

“Technically, you can’t sue a co-copyright holder. We’re going after Shenandoah Records,” Macy said.

The distinction didn’t make me feel any better. “I know, but it feels like we’re splitting hairs here. People are going to get hurt.”

People like Chance Alden, the other half of the Vaughn-Alden Band.

When we were kids, Eli, Chance, and I had been like the Three Musketeers. Once upon a time, I’d considered Chance my best friend, but he was so much more. He was my first kiss, first boyfriend, first lots of things.

I owed it to him to tell him what was going on before I filed the lawsuit. By rights, the songs were half his. I’d composed the music, and he’d written the lyrics.

“I’m going to reach out to Chance one more time,” I said.

“I’m sure he knows this is coming. The record label would have told him about the infringement notice. Besides, you’ve been trying to contact him for months. My guess is his attorneys advised him not to speak to you.”

The truth in her words hit me like a two by four to the heart. “I didn’t think about that.”

“And I’m advising you to do the same. Anything you say, no matter how innocent, could be used against you in court.”

I wanted to argue the Chance I knew would never betray me, but that was a lie. I didn’t know him at all—not anymore. “This is a mess.”

Macy drew a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I know you loved them both.”

Loved, as in past tense, didn’t quite sum up my feelings for Chance Alden and Eli Vaughn. A part of me would always love them. Eli for giving me the girls, and Chance… I’d always love him for no other reason than he’d owned a piece of my heart since we were kids.

“Thanks.” Even though she couldn’t see me, I stopped pacing, stood straighter, and put on a brave face. “I’ll let you know if I have any questions after I read the documents.”

“Keep your chin up. You have a rock-solid case.” Macy disconnected the call.

I glanced across the street to Delta’s rambling Victorian. The peeling paint and saggy front steps weren’t the only things that needed fixing. The plumbing ran scalding hot to ice cold or not at all, and the electrical outlets in the girls’ room didn’t work when it rained. The entire place was a big, beautiful fire hazard.

The money from the lawsuit would give me the means to fix it up. It was the least I could do after everything my grandma had done for me and the twins. When I’d first found out I was expecting, my father cut me off and refused to allow me to come home. My mom had died a few years earlier, so I was on my own. Thankfully, Delta had taken me in, given me a job, and provided a shoulder to cry on.

At some point during those long nine months, Agnes and Hazel, my grandma’s best friends, had stepped up and nominated themselves honorary great-aunts-to-be. They’d gotten me through the newborn phase, the terrible twos, and the dark months after Eli’s death. I would never forget the love and support the women had shown me during the hardest years of my life—even if their shenanigans drove me batty.

I walked back inside with my head held high. Otherwise, the ladies would have peppered me with a million questions about my phone call.

It turned out the grown-ups weren’t the ones I had to worry about.

Paisley glanced up from her coloring book and wrinkled her brow “You look sad, Momma.”

“She always looks sad when she talks to Aunt Macy.” Skylar ran a brush through her babydoll’s hair.

I knelt beside them, stuck my tongue out, and crossed my eyes. “Is this better?”

Sky giggled, but Paisley continued to stare with a worried expression.

“Talking to Aunt Macy doesn’t make me sad. If I was frowning, it’s because she gave me a lot of things to think about,” I said.

Paisley nodded and pulled a pink crayon from the box.

With the girls appeased, I stood, squared my shoulders, and made my way into the main part of the salon.

“About dang time.” Hazel shook her head at me before motioning to Agnes. “Now, spill it. What has you grinning like a donkey eatin’ briars?”

Eyes twinkling, Agnes drew a deep breath and prepared to launch into her story.

Before she could say a word, Mavis Vaughn strolled into the salon. “Did y’all hear Chance Alden canceled his tour? Word is he’s in drug rehab. I always knew that boy was no good.”

My heart thudded to a stop. There had to be a mistake. Chance didn’t even drink alcohol. He’d never do drugs. Not after his biological mother had overdosed when he was little.

“Mavis. That was my story to share.” Agnes stomped her foot and folded her arms like a scolded toddler. “And you got it wrong. Chance didn’t cancel the tour, the record company did. They haven’t sold enough albums since Eli passed away.”

All eyes turned to me.

I’d never get used to the pitying looks and muttered prayers every time someone mentioned him. Before I could think of something to say, or even react, the twins ran to my side.

Both girls stared at Mavis as if waiting for her to acknowledge them. She didn’t.

“If anyone owns the story, it’s me. It was about my boy.” Mavis glared. “Besides, it was all over the news this morning.”

Sensing a senior citizen cat fight brewing, I nodded to the back of the salon. “Girls, go play Barbies in Grandma’s office.”

The twins glanced between me and the ticked off women before hurrying away.

“Well, since you spoiled all the fun, you might as well leave.” Agnes blew a raspberry at the other woman.

“As per usual, your mood is as ugly as homemade soap.” Without sparing a glance in my direction, Mavis stormed out.

“Good riddance,” Hazel muttered under her breath.

The clacking of fake nails on a keyboard drew my attention. Delta squinted at the laptop, shook her head, and typed some more.

I had a feeling I knew what she was doing, but that didn’t stop me from asking, “What are you looking up?”

“Turns out poor Chance is still struggling with injuries from the accident.” She turned the screen so I could see the headline, along with a panty-melting photo of the bad boy of country music singing his heart out on stage. Behind him stood the gorgeous redheaded bass player, Miranda Bishop—his fiancée.

It hurt me to look at him, but I couldn’t turn away.

Delta handed the laptop to Agnes and wrapped her arms around me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize seeing the photos of the boys would upset you so.”

“It’s just…” I struggled to get my words out. “I hate that I wasn’t there for him after the accident.”

“That boy is trouble on two legs.” Agnes pursed her lips. “He might have been raised here, but living in the big city changed him.”

“What are you talking about?” Staring at the computer, Hazel cocked her head this way and that as if trying to find the trouble, or knowing the elderly woman, she was checking out his legs.

“With hair like that, I bet he’s one of those metrosexuals,” Agnes spoke loud enough to be heard in the next county, and certainly loud enough to be heard in the office.

“Agony.” Hazel gasped. “Do you even know what that word means?”

“Don’t call me that. And yes, Hazel, I do.” She harrumphed and folded her arms so dramatically, she put the twins to shame.

Delta laughed. “We’ve been calling you that since dirt was young. You old bat.”

“Hush you. What is this, pick on Agnes day?”

“What does it mean, Agnes?” Hazel stretched out the other woman’s name into five syllables.

“What does what mean?” She scoffed.

Hazel cupped her hand beside her mouth and whisper shouted, “Met-ro-sex-u-al.”

Agnes glanced around the room, huffed, and threw up her hands. “They’re like those men on that drag racing show.”

Delta pointed a boney finger at one, and then the other, of her misbehaving friends. “Play nice. There are children present, and I’m not talking about the two of you.”

Peeking around the corner, Paisley and Skylar watched the verbal sparring match like spectators at Wimbledon. They likely had no idea what we were talking about, but both girls wore huge grins.

Even Dixie, my grandma’s tiny Pomeranian, got in on the action by barking and spinning in circles.

Call it a stress induced nervous breakdown, but I started laughing and couldn’t stop.

Agnes shot to her feet and planted her hands on her oversized hips. “What’s so funny?”

Delta rolled her eyes so hard they did a complete three-sixty. “You. That’s what. Not only are you inappropriate, you’re wrong. The people on Ru Paul’s show are drag queens. Metrosexuals are those pretty men like Ryan Seacrest and that Pirates of the Caribbean actor.”

Agnes swept her arms out wide. “Oh please, enlighten us, Delta. Since you’re so damned knowledgeable.”

“As a matter of fact, I will.” Delta wiped her hands on her smock. “Hazel, take the girls home and get them a snack.”

As soon as the twins were out of earshot, my grandma proceeded to school Agnes on every letter in the LGBTQ alphabet—and some that weren’t.

Chapter 2

Chance

 

I hadn’t fallen asleep in the grass since I was a kid.

Sun on my face, cool breeze in my beard, the earthy scent of the cotton field a few yards away, it was perfect. Not even the fact I couldn’t remember how I’d gotten there could spoil this moment of pure, unadulterated peace.

Memories of afternoons napping in a different field filled me with nostalgia. It struck me as funny that I could miss a hometown that’d never felt much like home and was barely a town.

A horse-shaped cloud floated across the bright blue North Carolina sky. I stretched my arms out at my sides and dug my fingers into the crunchy, sunbaked grass. “I should write a song about that cloud.”

“That’s a great idea. I’ll get you a pen and paper.” A police officer, with a face as brown and withered as the pasture, stared down at me. “Right after I book you for trespassing, destruction of private property, and public intoxication.”

I was pretty sure I was trespassing, and now that he’d mentioned it, I vaguely remembered crashing into a fence. But public intoxication? Absolutely not.

“I don’t drink.” I pushed myself upright or tried to.

He pinned me in place with a boot to the abdomen. “Stay down. On your belly. Now.”

This wasn’t my first brush with the law, but it was definitely the weirdest. “Can’t roll over with your heel in my gut.”

“Don’t try anything funny.” Hand hovering over his gun, he took a step back.

I rolled onto my stomach and clasped my hands behind my back. “I’m not drunk or high, if you’ll—”

“Save it.” He muttered something about drug addicts and hippies under his breath. “Is that your hotrod a mile or so back?”

“Yeah. A deer came out of—”

“Add driving under the influence to your list of charges.” He snapped cuffs on my wrists, yanked me to my feet, and hauled me toward his car.

Pain shot from my right hip to the sole of my foot, but I managed to stay upright. Barely. “Careful of my right leg, I have twenty-three pins—”

“What you have is the right to remain silent. I suggest you exercise that right.” He smirked a familiar smirk that brought back a rush of old memories.

I glanced from his sour expression to his nametag. “You don’t remember me, Chief Hobbs?”

He narrowed his eyes. “I’m Officer Hobbs. Chief Hobbs is my father.”

“Holy shit, Wyatt?” Man, did he get old. I laughed before I considered the wisdom of pissing off a guy with a gun. “I didn’t recognize you. It’s me, Chance. Chance Alden.”

Wyatt glanced from my muddy boots to my overgrown beard and long hair. “Bullshit. Let’s go.”

“It’s me. Check my ID. It’s in my back pocket.”

“Nice try, buddy. If you’re Chance Alden, I’m the new King of England.” He swung the door open, put his hand on the top of my head, and shoved me inside.

While I wasn’t expecting a homecoming parade, I never thought I’d be rolling into town for the first time in almost six years, in the back of a police cruiser. “Come on, Wyatt. Check my ID.”

He slammed the door in my face and marched to the driver’s side of the cruiser.

In full freak-out mode, I sang the chorus of my first number one hit song, “Taking the Backroads Home.” It’d topped the country music charts for six months and put the Vaughn-Alden Band on the map.

Wyatt spun around and stared slack jawed. “Chance? My God. What…? How…? Wow… You look like you stapled roadkill to your face. Kinda smell like it too.”

I knew I looked bad, but not that bad. “It’s been a rough couple of years.”

“I was sorry to hear about Eli…”

I nodded. No matter how much time passed, I doubted I’d ever be able to talk about the accident that’d killed Elijah Vaughn, my best friend and bandmate. Hell, judging by the events of the previous few hours, talking about it was the least of my issues.

He nodded toward the pasture. “What the heck happened? Mrs. Connelly called the station, said some lunatic was pitchin’ a hissy fit in her cotton field.”

“I hit a deer.” I left out the part where I’d had a panic attack, lost time, and woken up in the grass.

Wyatt took off his hat and mopped the sweat from his brow. “Your car’s a good mile down the road. How’d you end up here?”

“I walked.”

He quirked a brow, an expression that reminded me too much of his hard-assed father. “And what? You got tired and decided to take a nap?”

“I always fall asleep when I’m meditating,” I mumbled, well-aware I sounded like a nutjob.

“Why were you meditating on the side of the road?”

I stared out the window, unsure how to respond. I’d grown up with Wyatt Hobbs, but I didn’t talk about my PTSD with anyone except my therapist, and even that was a crapshoot.

“Come on, Chance. I’m gonna need something more than that to tell my father…and Mrs. Connelly.” He cracked a grin. “And don’t think she’s gonna let you off the hook because you’re famous. She’s had it out for you since the cow tipping incident freshman year.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you and Eli were the ones who decided to ride the cow.” Memories of that night were more bitter than sweet. Whoever had come up with that old saying about time healing all wounds had never watched their best friend die.

“Things change. I’m an officer of the law, and you’re the bad boy of country music.” Wyatt lowered his voice. “Off the record, are you drunk or on something?”

“The only thing I’m on is gas station coffee and Little Debbie oatmeal pies.” I drew a deep breath and looked him in the eye. “If I tell you what happened, is it going to end up all over town?”

“Only if I put it in my report.” His expression softened. “But folks are gonna talk one way or the other. It’s better if we come up with the story we want them to spread.”

Gotta love small towns.

“You’re right.” I had no choice but to trust him, but that didn’t mean I knew where to start.

“Where were you coming from?” Wyatt asked.

“Nashville.”

He whistled. “Ten hours is a long haul.”

“Yeah.” I swallowed back the bile rising in my throat. “I was fine until I hit the deer. It was like a switch flipped in my head, and I was back in time to the night Eli…”

“I know what you mean. It was the same for me when I came back from Afghanistan.” Wyatt glanced away. “That’s why you were meditating?”

I nodded. “It helps, even if I do fall asleep.”

“And the hissy fit?” He chuckled.

“I don’t remember. Maybe I was pacing? Yelling at God?”

“Been there myself a few times.” He dragged his hand down his face. “Okay. So, this is what happened. You hit a deer. When you got out to check on the damage to your vehicle, you stepped in a yellow jacket nest. Those suckers will follow you for miles.”

I liked where this was going, but we had a problem. “I don’t have any stings.”

“So they bit you through your clothes.” He motioned to my face. “Not that anyone could tell with all that fur. Seriously, man, you look like a skinny version of that wooly fella from Harry Potter.”

“Hagrid?” I wasn’t sure if I should laugh or defend my honor. I chose the latter. “I was People Magazine’s second sexiest man on the planet.”

“That was three years ago, and close only counts in horseshoes. Brag about it when you win.” He shook his head. “Chance-freaking-Alden. I never thought you’d set foot back in Swans Harbor.”

“Technically, my feet aren’t in town limits.” I twisted to the side to remind him I was still cuffed. “Can you let me out of these things, or are you going to arrest me for needing a haircut and shave?”

“Oh shit, I forgot about those. Although, I should arrest you for canceling your tour. Me and my girl had tickets for the show in Raleigh.” Wyatt climbed out of the car, strolled to my side, and helped me out of the backseat.

My right foot slipped on the loose gravel. A jolt of pain shot from my heel to my ass cheek. The shock of it had me gasping for air and struggling to keep my balance—which was impossible with my hands cuffed behind my back.

He steadied me before I hit the ground. “Damn. I’m sorry. I heard you were hurt in the accident, but I didn’t realize… Is that why you canceled the tour?”

“I hated to disappoint the fans, but I couldn’t do it.” I turned so he could remove the handcuffs, but also so he wouldn’t see the half-lie in my eyes.

The official statement from my publicist blamed on-going health issues for the cancellation. The tabloids said I’d gone into rehab. Industry insiders whispered shitty album sales and half-empty stadiums marked the end of my career. They were all right. Except I hadn’t gone to drug and alcohol rehab. I’d spent months in intensive physical therapy. As for my career, it was hanging by a thread, but I had a plan to save it.

I rubbed my chafed wrists. “Any chance you can give me a ride?”

“Sure thing. Climb in.” Wyatt nodded to the front seat. “Did you call a tow truck before your nap?”

I’d been so busy trying to talk myself out of the back of the cop car that I’d forgotten about the mess the deer had gotten me into. “No, but I will. I need the paperwork from the glovebox, and my guitar and suitcase from the trunk.”

I eased into the front seat and sent up a silent prayer that the Eastern Carolina heat hadn’t warped the wood on my vintage Gibson six-string.

Wyatt pulled the car onto the road. “Where are you staying?”

“Out at the farm. My folks are in Europe for another week or so, but Sundae’s home for the summer. Plus, Graham’s staying there while his house is being built.” It’d been a few years since I’d seen my baby sister and older brother, but we talked often.

Like all my brothers, I’d bounced from boys’ homes to foster care until the Aldens had adopted me. Maybe it was because we’d gone through the same kind of hell, or maybe it was ending up with amazing parents, but the Alden boys were tighter than most siblings—and don’t get me started on Sundae, the only girl, and the baby of the family.

He glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “The farm’s a good fifteen miles from the station. Mind if I drop you off in town first? I can run you out there after I file my report.”

“That works. I have some business to see to.” I didn’t elaborate on said business. The last thing I needed was to add more grist to the rumor mill.

“I heard you were engaged to Miranda Bishop.” Wyatt wiggled his brows. “You lucky SOB. Don’t suppose she’s joining you? Meeting the family before the big day?”

“Randi and I aren’t together,” I said, a little rougher than I’d intended. The shit show, otherwise known as my engagement, was the last thing I wanted to discuss.

Wyatt pulled off the road and eased behind my four-wheeled baby, a silver 1971 Pontiac GTO Judge convertible. “Wooo-wee she’s a beauty. Musta cost you a fortune.”

“Nah, believe it or not, I found her in a junkyard. Restored her myself.” I hopped out of the car to put an end to the conversation. Growing up the way I had, I doubted I’d ever get used to talking about money. Let alone having any.

Wyatt followed me to the GTO and eyed the damage to the front end and windshield. “I bet old Silas Green can have this fixed up in no time.”

Normally, I wouldn’t let anyone touch the car, but desperate times and all that. “Does he still have a tow truck?”

“Yep. As a matter of fact…” He hooked his thumbs through his belt loops and rocked back on his heels, the redneck signal for preparing to launch into a long-drawn-out story.

Rather than continuing to bake on the side of the road, I attempted to change the subject. “Is Delta still running the salon?”

Wyatt blinked as if having trouble shifting gears. “Uh, yeah, but Truly manages things now. She moved in with Delta before the girls were born.”

Truly Callaway, the mother of my best friend’s twins, the love of my life, and the woman who’d either save, or destroy, my career. If the stars aligned, she’d help me find what I needed to save my sorry ass. If not, the news media would have a lot more to say about Chance Alden’s epic fall from country music grace.

Seeing Truly again would likely bring up old feelings, but I wasn’t about to rekindle something with my dead best friend’s baby-momma. Nope. I had a plan—convince her to help me find the sheet music and get out of town.

I nodded, more to myself than to Wyatt. “Don’t worry about driving me to the farm later. I’ll have Graham pick me up after I pay my respects to Miss Delta.”

“You might want to swing by the barber shop first. Things have changed since you left home, but I don’t think Swans Harbor is ready for Sasquatch chic.”

Chapter 3

Truly

 

Delta Dawn’s Beauty Palace was a lot of things, but quiet wasn’t one of them. Between the chatty customers, the whirring hair dryers, and the laughter of my five-year-old twins, the noise level inside the old wood frame building made a tornado siren seem like a whisper.

That is, until Chance Alden walked in.

Every female in the place gawked at the man in black, including me. Heck, my grandma dropped the curler she was putting in Agnes’s hair and let out a squeal that would make a teen girl jealous.

It wasn’t every day a country music star waltzed into the salon. But I didn’t stare because he was good looking. We’d grown up together. I was immune to his handsome smile. And I didn’t stare because he was famous. I’d been around in the early days when he’d been scared to sing in public. Nor did I stare because I was surprised to see him. Chance had come and gone through that door more times than I could count.

I stared because he’d never come home alone.

And my stupid heart kept looking for his partner in crime—Eli.

Chance leaned against the door frame wearing a bad boy grin. “Hey, Truly.”

I couldn’t get over how different he looked, how grown up. Gone was the string bean who’d left Swans Harbor with nothing more than an old guitar and a big dream. In his place stood a full-grown man. From the knicks on his jaw, I guessed he’d recently shaved, and he’d grown out his jet-black hair long enough to twist it into a manbun.

Paisley and Skylar whispered something back and forth, but I couldn’t make out their words over my pulse roaring in my ears.

“You two must be the Callaway twins.” He knelt to their eye level and motioned between them. “Which one of you is Paisley, and which is Skylar?”

Paisley bit her bottom lip and darted toward a child-sized table in the back of the salon.

Her sister wasn’t nearly as shy.

“I’m Skylar, but I go by Sky.” She stared as if she too was waiting for her daddy to walk in behind him. Only that was impossible. She had barely been three when Eli died.

“Nice to meet you, Sky.” He held out his hand, but rather than getting close enough to touch him, she ran after her twin.

“Chance…” My voice cracked like a baby rooster crowing at his first dawn. “What…what are you doing here?”

It’s been years. Why’s he here now? Is it because of the lawsuit?

“I was hoping we could talk.” His velvet-smooth tone felt like a caress, and based on the chorus of sighs behind me, every woman in the room had the same reaction.

“Oh… I…” Too damned many memories flashed through my brain.

Days collecting mussels in the marsh. Nights curled up beside a bonfire. Wild escapes in an old red truck to anywhere away from the watchful eyes of parents, relatives, and nosy townsfolk. Tearful goodbyes and joyful reunions…and that last goodbye. The one that’d broken both our hearts.

“It’s good to see you again, Chance.” Delta, God bless her soul, filled the heavy silence.

“Good to see you too, Ms. Delta. You’re looking as pretty as ever.” He winked, and my grandma blushed.

“And you’re still able to flatter the fleas off a hound dog.” She made a show of fanning herself before shooting me a worried look. She had to know seeing Chance again was hitting me like a fist to the gut. “Truly will be right with you as soon as she finishes up with Miss Hazel’s manicure. Won’t ya, Tru?”

I loved her for buying me some time, but a few minutes wouldn’t be long enough to get my head on straight. “Yes. Of course.”

“No rush.” Chance stepped out of the glare of the afternoon sun and perused a selection of sea glass jewelry in the display cabinet near the register.

I tore my gaze away from him and frowned at the blob of pink lemonade colored polish that’d dripped on Miss Hazel’s hand. Cheeks burning, I put the brush back into the bottle and fumbled for the remover. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry about it, sugar. He’s a mighty distracting man.” She gave me an understanding smile, before leaning close to whisper, “But you need to be careful. Agnes was right—he ain’t the same boy who left town all those years ago.”

I risked another glance in his direction. I’d seen him on TV and the internet several times over the years, but that was like looking at photos in an old scrapbook. Pleasant, but flat. In person… My goodness, in person, the man had a gravitational pull all his own.

Hazel gave him a once over. “But he sure is pretty.”

Chance turned his head, and my breath caught. The light streaming in the plate-glass windows illuminated the spider web of scars on the right side of his face and neck. Sexy country singer, best friend, first love, whatever I’d called him before didn’t matter. In that moment, Chance Alden was a walking, breathing reminder of everything I’d lost.

My grandma put the last roller in Agnes’s hair. Wiping her hands on her apron, she crossed the room and drew him into a big hug. “Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

He flashed her the same smile that’d graced the covers of countless magazines. “I was wondering when I’d get one of Delta’s world-famous hugs.”

“Why, you haven’t changed at all. Not one whit. Except for this gorgeous mane of yours.” She tugged his hair loose and ran her fingers through the silky strands. “I know plenty of women who would kill for this.”

“Forget the hussies. He should donate it to bald headed kids with cancer,” Agnes Abernathy muttered.

Chance laughed. “Good to see you too, Ms. Agnes. Still keeping us mere mortals in line, I see.”

She flubbed her lips, but her cheeks reddened.

“Don’t you listen to her. It’d be a sin to cut this off.” Delta patted his chest. “I can’t believe you’re finally home. What’s it been now? Five, six years?”

He winced. “Something like that.”

She seemed to realize what she’d said and lowered her chin.

Delta was right. Chance hadn’t darkened our door since I’d told him I was pregnant with Eli’s daughters.

“How long are you in town?” This from Agnes, who could never resist butting into other people’s conversations.

“At least a couple weeks. Maybe longer. I’d like to spend some time with my folks when they get back from Europe.” He glanced at me, and for the first time in my life, I couldn’t read his expression.

“Where are you staying?” Delta’s voice turned syrupy sweet, the tone she used when she was up to something, and I knew exactly what she had in mind.

I shot to my feet. “That’s really none of our business. Is it?”

Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to me. Hazel, Agnes, and the twins stared with wide eyes, but Delta gave me a knowing look. And Chance? He grinned the sort of grin that made me nervous. My grandma wasn’t the only one up to no good.

“Nonsense.” Delta turned her attention back to Chance. “You can’t stay out on the farm. It’s too far away from the action, and there’s no way I’m letting you pay for one of those swanky new bed and breakfasts.”

He furrowed his brow. “Since when does Swans Harbor have BnBs?”

“Since the new mayor decided to turn us into the next New Bern.” Agnes snorted. “The whole town is getting gentrified with hipster hooey.”

“Next she’ll be telling him about the new statue to her namesake,” Hazel mumbled.

He flashed that devilish grin of his. “Swans Harbor gentrified? Now, that’s something I’d like to see.”

I needed to do something. Fast.

Delta’s smile widened. “Truly and I have a new side hustle. We rent rooms through AirBNB. It’s our way of sticking it to those Yankee snobs who run the BnBs.”

“Oh yeah?” Chance shot me a quick glance.

“You can’t stay with us. The apartment over the studio is booked.” I blurted out the lie before I could stop myself. What can I say? I was desperate. No way would my battered heart survive being that close to Chance Alden for…what had he said? Weeks? A month? Longer?

Delta planted her hands on her hips. “We didn’t have any reservations this morning. I checked.”

“Someone must have booked the place since then.” I gave Chance an apologetic smile, but he was too busy fiddling with his phone to notice.

Hazel lowered her glasses and looked down her nose. She frowned so deep, her chin disappeared into the wrinkles on her neck. “Delta, think about what you’re saying.”

“AirBNB my fanny. You two are crazy for taking in strangers.” Agnes shook her head. “You’re begging for trouble.”

For once, I agreed with Agnes. Having Chance here was absolutely begging for trouble, but not the kind she suggested.

“I’ll check the website.” My traitorous grandma winked at Chance.

“No need.” He shrugged. “Your previous reservation must have canceled.”

“How do you know that?” I glanced from his stupid expression to the phone in his hand and knew the answer before he replied.

He slid his cell into his back pocket. “I booked the apartment online.”

“You what?” I shouted over Hazel and Agnes’s grumbling. “Cancel it or I will.”

I’d gotten so caught up in the situation, that I’d forgotten the girls were in the room until Paisley tugged on my shirt. “Why are you yelling, Momma? Are you mad?”

Damn it.

Ignoring the so-called adults in the room, I knelt beside her. “No, I’m not mad. I was surprised, is all.”

She tilted her head and pursed her lips as if she didn’t quite believe me.

Great. Just great.

Chance pulled his phone out again. “I didn’t mean to surprise you, Tru. I’ll cancel the reservation.”

That he’d used the same word I had to keep from upsetting Paisley softened me up, or maybe I realized I was being a jerk. Either way, I had a change of heart. “No. Don’t. It’s fine. Give me a minute, and I’ll show you the apartment.”

He hitched his thumb toward the back door. “Mind if I wait for you on the porch?”

Not trusting my voice, I nodded.

Hazel and Agnes watched him go through narrowed eyes. They’d known him his entire life, but that didn’t matter anymore. He’d committed the ultimate sin, and it had nothing to do with booking the apartment or the rumors swirling around his music career or his long hair. He’d left Swans Harbor. And that made him an outsider. Or worse…a stranger.

Skylar, who’d been shampooing her Barbie doll’s hair, rushed over to me. “Momma, is that our daddy?”

My heart shattering to bits, I did my best to ignore the pity in everyone’s eyes. “No, Sky. That’s your Uncle Chance. He was mine and your daddy’s very best friend.”

“Then he’s our best friend too.” She glanced at her sister. “Right, Paisley Rose?”

“Right.” She chewed her lower lip. “But are you sure you’re not mad at him?”

“No, baby. I promise I’m not upset. I was surprised to see him. It’s been a really long time since he’s been home.” My voice cracked. My life might not have turned out the way I’d imagined, but my sweet girls made the struggles worthwhile.

Skylar glanced over her shoulders as if to make sure no one was listening—everyone was listening. She leaned close and whispered, “Can I go outside with him?”

“Maybe later. It’s best if you let me talk to him first.” I nodded to the water dripping off the doll. “Grab a towel and clean that up before someone slips and falls.”

“Yes, ma’am.” She darted off toward the linen closet.

I sat and turned my attention back to Miss Hazel’s manicure, but my heart wasn’t in it. “Mercy me. I can’t remember if I did the second coat.”

Delta rested her hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Truly. If you want me to tell him to leave—”

“No.” I shook my head. “This will be good. It’s past time Chance and I talked about some hard things.”

As much as I’d denied it to her, and myself, I needed answers about Eli’s accident and my lawsuit and why he’d ghosted me after I’d told him I was pregnant.

Seeming to know exactly what things I’d referred to, she nodded. “Why don’t I finish up here, so you can go see to our guest?”

“Thanks.” I stood, smoothed my sundress over my hips, and my flyaways back into my ponytail.

“Be careful, Truly.” Hazel frowned. “As much as we’d love for you to find someone special, he’s not the stayin’ around kind.”

Agnes pointed at me. “Remember what I said about him last week. You can’t trust a metrosexual. They’ll always think they’re prettier than you.”

Delta threw up her hands. “Don’t start that nonsense again. What’s he going to do, steal her beauty products?”

Shaking her head, Hazel clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth. “I don’t like the idea of him staying here anymore than you do, Agnes. But he’s about as much a metrosexual as Pastor Callaway.”

I cringed at the mention of my father. Sunday sermon would undoubtedly be a thinly veiled message about the evils of sex, booze, and country music—in other words, Chance Alden.

“All I’m saying is y’all might want to start locking your doors at night,” Agnes said.

Hazel planted her hands on her hips. “You and I have both known that boy since he was freshly weaned from the T-I-T.”

What little control I’d gotten over myself vanished at Hazel’s outburst. Always one to laugh at inappropriate moments, I cracked up. Before long, Delta and Hazel joined in. Even the girls, who I hoped had no idea what was so funny, giggled.

“That’s it.” Agnes threw her hands up, grabbed her purse, and marched to the door. “I’m not going to stand around here and be laughed at.”

“Oh, Agnes. You can’t leave yet. You still have curlers in your hair.” Delta motioned to the rows of bright pink rollers covering the woman’s head.

“You be careful with that one, Truly Beth. Anyone with eyes in their head can see something ain’t right with that boy.” Agnes blew a raspberry at Hazel and stormed out.

Wow.

“Dollars to donuts, the whole town will know poor Chance is a metrosexual before sunset.” Delta shook the bottle of pink lemonade nail polish and turned her attention to Hazel. “Now, let’s get your nails finished.”

I had no doubt my grandma was right. Besides fishing and church, gossiping was about the only thing to do to pass the time.

“I’ll keep an eye on the girls.” Delta nodded to the back door. “I think you’ve kept him waiting long enough.”

“Yes ma’am.” I gathered my strength and my courage and walked outside to talk to Chance.

Here goes nothin’.