In Tune with Love Page 6

  He picked up a birdseed cup. “Now, are people supposed to drink those or hand them out to the birds? Which, if you want my opinion, seems to skirt the line of encouraging alcoholism among God’s winged creatures.”

  “Thank you for sharing.”

  “And then another thing—”

  “Put that down, Jack. The last thing I need is for you to spill it. Then I’d have to clean it up and start over.” April looked up at him, a look of pure exhaustion on her face. Still, he didn’t miss the edge of a smile. “Except for your lovely rendition of ‘Open Arms’ that I simply can’t wait to hear tomorrow night, you’re finished with rehearsals. So why are you still hanging around? A sudden need to fill birdseed cups?” Before he knew what had happened, she grabbed a stack of twenty-five or so and shoved them in his hands. “I’ll take that as a yes, so here you go. Finish these in the next fifteen minutes and I’ll buy you some ice cream.” As soon as the words left her lips, her eyes widened as though she couldn’t believe her impulsively bad idea.

  “I haven’t been bribed with ice cream since I was seven, but I guess I’ll agree to anything if it means you’re taking me out on another date.”

  She pushed back a strand of hair that had fallen in her face. The move was cute, the slightly disheveled look suddenly doing all sorts of good things for her. Something inside his chest gave a little twist, something he tried to ignore as best he could. It didn’t work all that well, not even when she took the opportunity to throw out another insult.

  “You asked me last night, and going out for coffee doesn’t count as a date. Neither does ice cream. And besides, we’re only going if you finish on time.” She glanced at everything he still held in his hands. “And right now, it’s not looking real good for you.”

  He looked down, then back up at her. If he calculated right, he had nearly thirteen minutes left before time ran out. And he was Jack Vaughn.

  Jack Vaughn never backed down from a challenge, especially not one thrown down by the most interesting girl he’d been around in years.

  Nine minutes. Nine minutes, and he’d finished filling every last cup. Meanwhile, she had managed to complete less than half his total and still had to return to the reception hall to finish them before the rehearsal started in three hours. Not to mention she still wore the gym shorts and the tank she’d pulled on in a rush first thing this morning, her hair was still knotted at the back of her head, and she wasn’t wearing a stitch of makeup. She was a mess walking next to Jack in his perfectly manicured wedding rehearsal outfit.

  “You have ice cream on your chin.”

  And this lovely observation only confirmed it. April frowned and rubbed the ice cream away.

  “Did I get it all?” she asked.

  He tilted his head and studied her. “The vanilla, yes. But you still have a chocolate chip stuck to your cheek.” Before she knew what was happening, Jack reached out and brushed it away, the warmth of his fingertip staying behind long after contact had been broken. April willed her heart to settle and stared straight ahead, reminding herself to take one step and then another, one step and then another. It was the only way to make sure she wouldn’t trip and fall over her own feet, which currently felt like unset Jell-O shaking in a bowl of mixed-up nerves.

  “I shouldn’t be allowed to go out in public,” she said. Beside her, Jack laughed.

  “Every time I wear a white shirt—every single time, I’m not kidding—I drop something on it. Coffee. Chocolate cake. Once even a Sharpie when I was trying to write my own name. So I know what you mean. The affliction affects me too. Has since I was a kid.”

  April couldn’t help the grin that stole over her face. “You know, you’ll be wearing a white shirt tomorrow night at the wedding. I’ll hate to see what you look like at the end of the night.”

  Jack opened the car door for her and she climbed inside. For just a moment, he rested one arm on the passenger door and peered down at her. “Something tells me you wouldn’t hate it at all. Something tells me you’re secretly hoping I’ll be covered in filth before I even climb up onstage.”

  “Busted. Although in my defense, seeing you a complete mess might be a good way to get Kristin to loosen up a little. Maybe I’ll do the same with my dress. Smear a little chocolate on it. Add a few rips to the hem. Who knows? We could start a hot new trend.” April smiled at her lap. “And then, of course, seeing you that way might ultimately help make me feel better.”

  Jack stepped back. “Come on, April. You told me to get creative. To think of something to make everything up to you. Surely you think I can do better than that. And speaking of what we’re wearing, what color is your dress?”

  It was the way he said it. It was the way he said it coupled with the excited gleam in his eye. That’s what began April’s unraveling, one tiny thread at a time. Jack had something planned. Jack had taken her words to heart and had actually begun to work on them. And as he stepped back and closed the car door, then took his time walking around to the driver’s side, the feeling stayed with her.

  Jack Vaughn had a plan. Which could only mean one thing. Jack cared about her. At least a little.

  “It’s yellow. My dress is yellow.”

  April couldn’t keep the smile off her face the whole way home.

  Jack slipped his arms through his tuxedo jacket and studied himself in the mirror. He hadn’t worn one of these straightjackets since prom, foregoing them even at awards ceremonies and other friends’ weddings in favor of tailored jackets, expensive tees, and black Converse. He was a musician; he could get away with anything and call it artistic expression.

  Today wasn’t one of those days, especially with Kristin Quinn as the bride.

  Jack buttoned himself in and frowned, a little uncomfortable with how closely he resembled a groom at that moment. But then just as soon as that feeling came . . . it left. Maybe one of these days he would be. Maybe someday soon he would meet a girl, fall in love, and find himself walking down the aisle to meet her. He fully expected that day not to occur for the next decade or so, at least that’s how he had things planned. It’s what he felt most comfortable with in his mind.

  Which is why the sudden image of April in a wedding dress his imagination conjured up had him feeling particularly uncomfortable.

  He shook off the mental picture and reached for a pair of gold cufflinks, taking a moment to attach one and then the other. Satisfied that his look was complete, he headed for the door. He barely got the thing open when he spotted April across the church hallway, looking down at her feet as though trying to find something. She looked stunning. He hated that superficial word, but it was the only way he could think to describe her. Her hair was pulled up, her slender neck a smooth line of tanned skin from hairline to collarbone. He traced it down to her bare upper back, taking in the way her waist narrowed and disappeared underneath the clingy silk fabric. His eyes traveled lower . . . lower . . . until he caught himself and swallowed. She was stunning. Absolutely gorgeous.

  He was frozen in his own doorway, unable to move, until he realized she had turned around and was looking right at him.

  “If you’re finished ogling me, do you think you could come help with this?”

  Busted. The word she used last night, suddenly appropriate right now. He felt his stupid face turn red, a sensation he hadn’t experienced since high school. So many incidents from those years crashed over him like a hurricane of bad memories. He wouldn’t go back there for anything, not even if it meant Katie McKeen—most popular girl who never once gave him the time of day—sat on his lap at lunch, shared her order of ketchup and fries, and kissed him on the mouth while the entire cafeteria watched in awe.

  A dumb schoolboy fantasy that stayed with him through sophomore and junior year. And maybe a little bit of senior year, too, but that wasn’t important.

  “I wasn’t ogling you.” The lie bled red all over him, and inwardly he cursed. “What do you need help with?”

  “I dropped Sam’s wedding ba
nd and now I can’t find it anywhere. Help me and I’ll dance with you at the wedding.” It was a sarcastic comment, meant to sound amusing. The disappointment Jack felt surprised him.

  “I’m singing. I won’t be able to dance with you.”

  He didn’t miss her frown. Or the way she covered it with a tug on her hair and a small smile. They were both bothered.

  “I was kidding. But I saw the way you filled those birdseed cups yesterday. You were practically racing to finish them on time. I’ve never seen anyone work so fast, and for nothing but a single scoop of chocolate.”

  “It was a double scoop, and there’s nothing wrong with chocolate.”

  “Only boring people get plain chocolate.”

  “Must be the reason you went with the super-exciting chocolate chip.”

  In response, she smacked him on the arm. Using her very smooth, shapely arm. And funny thing, he liked being hit. By her. As far as he was concerned, she could do it again and again.

  “Would you just help me for a second? If I don’t find this ring, my sister will freak out, and I’m just really not in the mood for that today.”

  “Your sister needs to chill.” Jack shot a quick glance at his feet. Something flashed right next to the sole of his shoe. In Tune with Love “Is this it?” He leaned over and picked it up, then handed it over.

  Instead of the relieved smile he expected to see, she rolled her eyes. “Of course you would find it without even trying. I’ve been out here looking for ten minutes.”

  “What did you expect? I’m Jack Vaughn. I can do anything I want.”

  For the first time ever, he regretted that line as soon as it escaped his mouth. If April’s expression was any indication, the words were definitely a mistake.

  “It would seem that way,” she said with a shrug. And without another word, she slipped the band over her thumb and disappeared behind the door to the room that housed the rest of the wedding party. Jack could hear a half dozen excited conversations going on inside the room.

  He swallowed. He had so much to make up to her. He only hoped today would put him on the road to getting there.

  “What do you mean you lost it?” Kristin’s shrill voice carried across the room. “I bought it as a gift and gave it to you only yesterday. How could you lose it?”

  “Kristin, those things were so tiny, I’m not surprised she lost hers,” April said, rushing to the bridesmaid’s defense. “Why in the world you thought it was a good idea to buy everyone a single pearl to commemorate the day completely escapes me.”

  Kristin let out a long, labored sigh, so loud it was likely heard at the altar. “Because everyone knows pearls signify fertility if you wear them in your shoes during a wedding ceremony, and I want to have lots of children.” April just looked at her. If Sam were a smart man, he would already be out the front door and looking for a cab to take him a million miles away from here.

  “That doesn’t mean everyone else does.” April said slowly, already planning to lose hers accidently on purpose.

  “Suddenly I’m glad I can’t find mine,” Brenda, the bridesmaid who had just been given the lecture, muttered under her breath.

  “I don’t understand why everyone can’t just do their jobs and cooperate a little more,” Kristin—remaining firmly in meltdown mode—said into her hands. April just smiled at Brenda, the two of them sharing what might possibly be the only lighthearted moment of the entire day, week, or black hole of a month.

  “Kristin, what are you yelling about?” Their mother, ever the picture of calm, cool, and collectedness in her blue silk suit and Jimmy Choo heels, walked into the room and closed the door—her thin lips pressed into a disapproving line.

  And as Kristin started to cry about the benefits of fertility pearls and Brenda and the other bridesmaids looked anywhere but at Kristin, April swallowed her frustration and quietly left the room. She needed air. Of all the places she wanted to be in this moment, cowering on the receiving end of one of her sister’s tantrums wasn’t one of them. There was really only one place she wanted to be.

  Back in the hallway with Jack.

  April pressed a hand to her stomach, thinking surely she had come down with a strange bug or something. Because . . . the hallway with Jack? Anywhere at all with Jack? The idea was ridiculous at best, horrific at worst. She’d been furious with Jack Vaughn for three years now. It wasn’t like she could just give that up in less than a week’s time and suddenly develop some sort of odd kinship with the man. And kinship wasn’t even the right word. Affection was closer to it—no. She decided then and there to stick with kinship. It was safer. Accurate. The most correct way to describe how she felt.

  She was totally lying to herself.

  Still, the wedding was getting ready to start, she had a pearl to dispose of, her feet already hurt, and she hadn’t seen Jack in ten minutes or so.

  It had been the longest ten minutes of her life.

  This had been the longest hour of Jack’s life.

  Weddings just weren’t his thing.

  Not the one-by-one parade down the aisle. Not the endless words about love and faithfulness by the pastor-for-hire— or in this case Kristin’s pastor because she actually went to church here. Not the candle lighting or the vows or the mind-numbing words of encouragement spoken throughout by assorted unknown family members. Since when did family members speak? No, none of this was particularly his thing.

  He glanced up at the stage, his gaze landing once again on April’s slender form. Okay, maybe this wedding offered one thing.

  April. April had definitely become his thing.

  Truthfully, he shouldn’t even be here. He needed to be at the reception hall getting his band ready to perform. Instead he sent them on ahead, unable to bring himself to leave while April was still here. Besides, he was invited. And who was he to turn down a kindly offered invitation by the bride?

  A man who was learning to have a thing for weddings, that’s who.

  Throughout the ceremony, Jack hadn’t stopped staring at her. At the way she stood proudly at her sister’s side, taking charge of the veil, the bouquet, the ring, the everything. At her figure in that form-fitting dress. At her eyes—the way they shone with unshed tears. As mad as she’d been only an hour ago when she marched up to him right before the ceremony started, he didn’t expect the emotional side of her to come out. Then again, every chick he’d ever met cried at weddings. Obviously she was no exception. But something about her tears tugged at him.

  Maybe because it was easy to imagine her crying those same tears after she discovered he had stolen her lyrics. Partial lyrics or not, it was time he finally stopped lying to himself. They were hers. Rightfully hers. And on the back of her creativity, he’d made millions.

  All week he’d worked to convince himself that pocketing her napkin years ago wasn’t a serious offense, rationalizing that someone needed to have the courage to make good words like hers available to the public. April hadn’t had the guts; still didn’t have them or she wouldn’t be working in the same bar wearing the same apron and singing the same nightclub ballads.

  That’s what he’d told himself.

  Now the only words floating through his mind were liar . . . selfish . . . cheater. All of them on repeat. Well, he was tired of the labels. Weary of the mental taunt. There really was only one way to rectify that grievance, only one way to make the accusations stop launching toward him like hand grenades aimed straight for his head.

  He just hoped he could actually bring himself to go through with it.

  April was annoyed with her sister. Fed up and sick of her demands and weary of being Kristin’s personal punching bag for the last week. No one should be treated the way she’d been treated the past several days, and she’d had enough. More than enough, and she was ticked off.

  So why in the world was she crying?

  Because her sister was getting married, and she would miss everything about their one-on-one relationship. Quiet conversations late at ni
ght from the living room sofa in the apartment they’d shared for the past three years. Fights over which one of them used the last of the conditioner and placed it back on the shower shelf for the other to discover it empty. Grocery store trips and split bills at the checkout—always in half and always annoying because Kristin’s tastes ran decidedly more expensive than hers. Living with her sister was a pain in the butt. She was bossy and messy and lazy and selfish to the core.

  But Kristin was her sister. April would miss her so much it hurt just thinking about it. She swiped at a tear threatening to run down her cheek and smear her perfectly applied makeup. But then another one followed it and she gave up. It didn’t matter if anyone saw her cry. She loved her sister; it wasn’t anything to be ashamed of. Their love ran deep.

  “April, pay attention,” Kristin whispered. “Why are you choosing my wedding to daydream?”

  Their hatred . . . it also ran deep.

  “I wasn’t daydreaming,” April shot back. “What do you want?”

  “It’s time for the rings. If you’re not too busy, could you hold my bouquet?”

  April forgot her tears as her gaze turned hot. “Stop complaining and hand it over. Geez, you’d think this moment was all about you.” She grinned at her unintended words, and just like that her anger dissolved.

  As did Kristin’s. It didn’t take long until both of them were giggling. Onstage. In front of everyone. At a wedding. A wedding that had cost a lot of money and time and effort to impress the socially upward. At the exact same moment, they remembered their mother and the heated glare she was likely sending from her spot on the front row. April tried to catch a glimpse of her, but as luck would have it, her eyes connected with Jack’s and stayed there before she had the chance.

  And then, of course, April forgot all about her mother. Because Jack was staring right at her, the sweetest look of concern lining his features. She could get used to that look. She could swim in it and hang out inside it for a while and probably never want to leave. And more than anything else at that very moment, it was what she wanted.