Love at Last (Finding Love Book 6) Read online

  “I’m not sure I should tell you. You’ll probably laugh.”

  “I’ll try not to, but as you’ve probably noticed, I’m easily amused. I think it comes from my belief that if I can find something to smile or laugh about in every situation, I can also find a way to deal with it.”

  “So you’re a ‘laugh in the face of danger’ sort of person?”

  “As much as I can be. I try not to let things get to me, and laughter is a means to that end. I’ll make this whole thing less stressful for you by telling you my hobby. I like to read comics. One of my dreams (other than to write a New York Times bestseller) is to attend San Diego Comic Con.”

  Rosemary joined him in the living room, but instead of sitting beside him on the couch (which he’d been hoping for), she chose the chair next to the coffee table. “Who would have thought that underneath all those good looks and muscles beats the heart of a geek?”

  “We come in all shapes, sizes and appearances.”

  “My brother Cedric is into comics.”

  Jase propped a cushion under his arm. “I’ve got some older ones boxed up somewhere. I should send them to him.”

  She sent him a sweet smile. “He’d love that, Jase.”

  “They’re probably in Quinn’s attic. Once I’m not so banged up, I’ll find them. In the meantime, it’s your turn. What are you into?”

  “I like to knit. It indulges my creative side and has the advantage of being able to be done almost anywhere.”

  He stroked his chin, trying to decide if she was teasing him. “Knitting, huh? I was thinking more along the lines of horseback riding or line dancing. I’ve never seen a woman under sixty knitting.”

  “My job is very demanding so something uncomplicated and restful suits me.” She glanced down at the hands clasped together in her lap and then back at him. “Speaking of my job, there’s something else you need to know about me. Something much more important than the fact that I knit hats and sweaters in my spare time.”

  The seriousness of her expression gave him an idea what was coming. “You can tell me anything, Rosemary. Anything at all.”

  She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward. “Do you remember when Donny’s mother mentioned going to a Sage concert?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is going to sound totally crazy, but that was me. I’m the performer known as Sage. Atlanta was the final stop on my tour.”

  Even though he already knew, it was still surreal to hear the words come out of her mouth. “It doesn’t sound crazy at all. As long as we’re making confessions, I have one, too. I figured out who you were a few days ago.”

  Her face lost all its pretty color. “Did you tell anyone else?”

  “Of course not. The dark sunglasses and hat were a pretty good indication that you didn’t want to be recognized.”

  “Most people wouldn’t care about that.”

  “I’m not most people.”

  She smiled then. “No, you’re not. Meeting you has been like getting a gift I wasn’t expecting. How did you figure out I was Sage?”

  “I was in the right place at the right time. I’ll show you what I mean.” Jase retrieved the CD from his bedroom. “I found this at Ellen’s shop. Her assistant is one of your legions of fans. I didn’t recognize you, but I did recognize the ring on your finger.”

  “I can’t believe you saw that. It’s my grandmother’s ring. I’m never without it.”

  “Are you between tours right now?” he asked as he sat back down.

  “Yes. I haven’t taken any time off for myself in the last two years. I told you about Randall. He wasn’t just my fiancé; he was also my manager. His relationship with my assistant and our subsequent parting of the ways eventually went viral. It didn’t help that it happened in the middle of my tour. Those events cast a long shadow from which I have yet to emerge.

  “It hasn’t been easy dealing with the fallout and keeping up appearances in public. I needed a place to hide away for a while, somewhere no one would think to look for me. Buying my grandmother’s house provided me with the perfect location. Only my parents and my best friend know I’m in St. Marys. Needless to say, my new manager isn’t very happy with what he calls my veil of secrecy.”

  “He might not be, but I’m thrilled.” He patted the cushion next to him. “It would be even more thrilling if you came over here.”

  “Why is that?” she asked as she moved from the chair to the couch.

  Jase waited until she was beside him and then reached for her hand. “Because I want you close when I tell you how much I’ve enjoyed listening to your music. Donny’s mother is right. Your voice gives me goosebumps, too. And not only can you sing, but you’re also a very gifted songwriter.”

  “Thank you, but I thought you didn’t like country music.”

  “I never actually said I didn’t like it. I just don’t make a habit of listening to it. Your songs are deeply emotional and yet filled with an underlying message of hope. I like that you don’t shy away from tough subjects, but deal with them in an open and honest way.”

  She squeezed his hand. “I can’t tell you what that means to me. I don’t measure success by concert attendance and records sold. I measure it by the letters and emails I receive from people telling me that my music touched them in some way.”

  “I can understand that. I love hearing from my small group of fans.”

  “This isn’t fair, you know. You’ve heard me sing, but I haven’t read any of your books.”

  “I’m nowhere near your talent level.”

  “You can’t say that. You’re just getting started. A year from now you might be in a bookstore doing a book signing, and I’ll be in line waiting to get your autograph.”

  “Or maybe one day I’ll help you write your memoir. We could call it Sage Unplugged or something similar.”

  “I was thinking about what you said yesterday about not being able to write because of your arm being in the sling. I could type the words as you say them. It’s not the same as you doing it, but it would be better than nothing.”

  Talk about having his mind blown. The hottest name in country music was offering to help him with his writing. “You can’t be sitting around here for hours typing my gibberish.”

  “If you’re selling books, it can’t be gibberish. Besides, it would be interesting to see your creative process in action.”

  “My ‘creative process’ as you call it is a little unconventional. I play classical music, drink Hazelnut coffee by the gallons and stay up all night.”

  “None of that would bother me. I’m on a similar schedule most of the time. My concerts don’t end until well after midnight.”

  Jase hadn’t told her the real problem. He wasn’t sure he could write with her in the same room. She was the kind of distraction most men dreamed about. “I suppose we could try it, but I have to wait for the overbearing doctor next door to give me the ‘all clear’ sign.”

  “Maybe it will help me, too. I’m supposed to be working on songs for a new album, but the well has gone dry. Got any cures for writer’s block?”

  “Lots of Chinese take-out.”

  “Really? Chocolate usually works for me, but it hasn’t been as effective lately.”

  “You just have to stay with it. Sooner or later, the flow of ideas will begin to move again.”

  “I hope so. I’ve built my reputation on singing my own songs. I should probably get going. I was reading about concussions last night. I didn’t realize how serious they are.”

  “Quinn made sure I know, too. It’s the only reason I’m trying to follow his rules.”

  “Are you allowed to leave the house?”

  “He’d prefer me not drive right now.”

  “If you’d like to get out for an hour or so tomorrow, you could come with me to Nelson Interiors to look for wallpaper. I’ll do the driving.”

  “A wallpaper store! There’s somewhere I never thought I’d be going with a girl.”

  “It�
��s not where you go; it’s who you’re with.”

  “That sounds like a good song lyric.”

  “It’s something my father used to say. How about one-thirty? That’ll give me time to take Mrs. Jenkins to her eye appointment in the morning.”

  “Does she know who’s driving her around?”

  “No one in St. Marys knows except you, and that’s the way it has to stay. I can’t stress that enough. If the press finds out, there’ll be reporters parked outside my door twenty-four hours a day. And if they see you with me, they’ll be parked on your driveway, too.”

  “I can see where that could be a problem.”

  “It would be a disaster.”

  “I won’t tell anyone, not even Quinn or Ellen. You have my word on that.” He brought her fingers to his lips and kissed her knuckles. Tinges of pink appeared on her cheeks. This telltale sign of confusion surprised him. It showed that in spite of her fame, she was still vulnerable and unsure of herself in certain situations.

  “I appreciate your understanding. There’s just one more thing we need to take care of before I leave. Are any of your books on that bookshelf against the wall?”

  He chuckled. “Of course. I like to take them out and stare at them every day.”

  “May I borrow one to read?”

  “An author never turns down the chance to have someone read his work,” he told her as they walked over to the bookshelf. “I’ll start you off with the first one I published. It’s about a widowed noblewoman who while trying to find a rich husband for her niece discovers a devastating family secret.”

  She took it from him. “Sounds intriguing.”

  “Let’s hope you feel that way while you’re reading it. Thanks again for bringing lunch and even more for spending part of your afternoon with me.”

  “I don’t think any woman would complain about that.”

  He followed her to the door. “Honesty forces me to disagree with you.”

  “Don’t you mean modesty?” she asked as she turned to face him.

  Her question hardly registered. As had happened previously, Jase got lost staring in her eyes, drawn to her like a magnet. He reached with his good arm to lightly stroke her cheek. When she leaned into his touch, his heart slammed against the wall of his chest. His fingers skimmed across the fullness of her mouth before sliding into her hair. The sigh that escaped her shattered what remained of his self-control. Her lips quivered under the pressure of his, their softness taking his breath and leaving him more dazed than when he tumbled off the ladder.

  * * * * *

  Rosemary was frozen in place both literally and figuratively. The imprint of Jase’s fingers still tingled on her skin just as the impression of his lips would no doubt linger on her mouth. He kissed like he did everything else: with an intensity she found profoundly moving and an expertise that was dangerously addictive. When he lifted his head, she tried to come up with something to say other than ‘kiss me again’. There was some comfort in the fact that he looked as bemused as she felt.

  A smile danced on his lips as he bent down to pick up the book that had dropped unknowingly from her hand. “I don’t have to worry about what I’m going to think about for the rest of the day.”

  His words so closely mirrored her own thoughts that she laughed. “Me, either.”

  “That’s all anyone can expect of a first kiss,” he said as he handed her the book.

  “I agree.”

  She was still smiling foolishly ten minutes later when she realized she missed the turnoff for Hibiscus Lane. This state of affairs might be more understandable if she hadn’t been kissed before. But as Collette had said on more than one occasion: there are kisses and then there are kisses. None of those others had ever made Rosemary feel as if the entirety of her world consisted of two people.

  The remainder of the day was spent removing the peeling wallpaper in the bathroom and returning the numerous calls that had stacked up on her phone. Sidestepping around Carl’s inquiry about the progress of her new album, she made his day by agreeing to participate in the concert series scheduled for next summer. As she listened to his suggestions for rehearsal times and potential touring partners, she felt a curious detachment from Sage that would have seriously alarmed him and her fans.

  After dinner, she fixed a cup of hot tea, curled up on the couch and reached for the book on the coffee table. The tea grew cold as she became absorbed in an intelligently developed plot and captivating characters. When she reached the end, she felt both humbled by Jase’s obvious talent and proud that his abilities were finally getting recognized. Not able to wait until the following day to tell him what she thought, Rosemary grabbed her phone.

  “Just finished your book. I loved it.”

  “Thank you. I wish you were here so I could more adequately show my appreciation. Which character did you like the best?”

  “Lord Vulcan. He’s a chivalrous man willing to deny his own happiness for the woman he loves.”

  “I based him on Quinn.”

  “Can I assume that Ellen was the model for Lady Genevieve?”

  “She wasn’t at first. I rewrote her after I met Ellen.”

  “You did a good job portraying a woman’s emotions by the way.”

  “That was by far the hardest part. No matter how hard I try, I still think like a man.”

  “I have it easy. I only have to write from my own perspective.”

  “Which you do very well. I really like the last song on your album.”

  “In the Sun was written after my dad died. Like a lot of girls, I idolized my father.”

  “When I was six, I asked my mother to marry me. She explained why this wasn’t possible, so I asked my first grade teacher. She refused, too. I haven’t asked anyone else. I bet Sage has been asked a few hundred times.”

  “Sage gets lots of marriage proposals, but she’s just one part of Rosemary.”

  “I really like Rosemary. When I’m with her, my heart starts to race, my hands start to sweat, and I can’t think straight.”

  His teasing comments brought a smile to her face. “It sounds like we have a similar problem.”

  “You just guaranteed me a sleepless night.”

  “If you don’t sleep, you won’t feel like going wallpaper shopping.”

  “Nothing short of falling off another ladder would keep me from going with you. Quinn just came through the door with my late night snack. He and Ellen went to a concert. I asked him to stop by Moe’s. I was in the mood for burritos.”

  “Then I’ll say goodnight and let you enjoy your food. See you tomorrow afternoon.”

  Rosemary reread her favorite parts of Jase’s book until she got tired enough to go to sleep. Not surprisingly, she dreamed about the subject of her thoughts. Just as Jase was leaning in to kiss her, the flashes from hundreds of cameras lit the darkness around them. Their romantic, moonlit walk on the beach had been an illusion. Instead of being alone, they were surrounded by faceless paparazzi armed with cameras and microphones. Jase was saying something to her, but she couldn’t hear him. A loud rumble of thunder rang out overhead and everything faded.

  Her eyes flew open. Through the lacy curtains on the window, she could see lightning streaking across the early dawn sky. Her hand instinctively searched for and found her phone. Six-thirty. Pushing aside the comforter, she sat up and swung her feet to the floor, hoping that like most dreams, this one would soon be forgotten. She needed no reminder of what getting involved with Jase might set in motion. For now, the daring dip of her toe into the pool of normalcy hadn’t yet been compromised.

  Chapter Seven

  When Rosemary arrived at Jase’s house at a few minutes past one-thirty, he was standing in the garage talking to someone bent over the hood of a car. When Rosemary got closer, she recognized that someone as his brother.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” she said when she joined them. “Mrs. Jenkins’s appointment took a little longer than I thought.”

  Jase waved tha
t away. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve been keeping Quinn company.”

  “Is that what you’ve been doing? It sounded like you were telling me I don’t know how to change an oil filter.” Quinn turned to face her. “It’s nice to see you again, Rosemary.”

  “Same here.”

  Jase reached for her hand and swung it back and forth. “This is exciting. I’ve never been driven around by a woman before.”

  Quinn chuckled. “I’m excited, too. You’re not the best driver when you’ve got both hands on the wheel. I can’t imagine you trying to drive with one.”

  “Don’t listen to him,” Jase said as he leaned down to open the car door for her. “He’s the one with the speeding ticket. My driving record is perfect.”

  Rosemary sat down on the seat and reached for the seatbelt. “I wish I could say the same. I totaled my first car. My stepfather wasn’t in a hurry to give me another one. I rode the school bus for the remainder of the year.”

  Jase walked around to the other side and got in. “When I turned sixteen, my father gave me his mother’s car. It was hard to be cool when I was driving the grandma mobile.”

  She sent him a quick glance as she backed out of the driveway. “You look like you feel better today.”

  “I do feel better. As I was telling Quinn before you arrived, your kisses apparently have restorative powers.”

  “I’m sure as a medical man he found that hard to believe.”

  “Not at all. He believes that a happy patient is a fast-healing patient. There’s no doubt that kissing you made me happy.”

  And being with Jase made her happy; happier than she’d been in a long time. “I hope picking out wallpaper doesn’t spoil your good mood.”

  “I’ve been looking forward to it all day.”

  “You must really be desperate to get out of the house.”

  “I was impatient to see you. Getting out of the house was just a bonus.”

  The drive to Nelson Interiors didn’t take long. Once they were inside, Jase led her to a display of wallpaper samples that took up the entire right side of the store.