Life Rewritten Read online

  Sam wanted to wind the clock ahead to eight-thirty, when both of the kids would be in bed. He wanted peace and quiet and no crying. No messes to clean up. No more laundry to do.

  Instead, he waited for Rennie to stand up, and held out his hand. She took Leo’s instead.

  After they’d bathed Fluffy, Sam cleaned the tub and filled it with warm water again. “You want a bubble bath, Rennie?” he asked.

  “I want Delaney.”

  He wasn’t going to call her. She’d calmed the kids yesterday, but she’d also pointed out every one of his failings. He didn’t need anyone to do that—he knew all too well why he shouldn’t be taking care of Leo and Rennie.

  The memory of her scent washed over him. It could make him forget the smell of burning toast and wet dog. He’d rather look at her than two kids who made him feel helpless and inept.

  “Just take your bath, Rennie.”

  She shook her head. Bits of mud from her hair splattered the bathroom walls. “I want Delaney.”

  “We don’t need Delaney. We can take care of ourselves.”

  AS DELANEY WALKED from the barn to her house that evening, twilight purpled the sky and turned the tall pines at the side of the house to black. A breeze was blowing, but it was warmer. The air almost smelled like spring.

  She’d managed to keep Sam and Leo and Rennie out of her head while she worked by focusing completely on the bed she was building. But now, stepping into the dusk, she wondered how their day had gone.Not her problem, she reminded herself. Sam had made that very clear. He’d only called her because there was no one else.

  But that didn’t stop her from wondering about the kids. Had they had a good day? Had Sam paid attention to them?

  The lullaby she’d hummed the night before drifted through her head as she unlocked the kitchen door. Leo and Rennie had lost so much. They were adrift—she recognized the sadness and confusion in their eyes.

  She wanted to reach out and kiss it away. Make them giggle and laugh. Act like goofy kids instead of lost souls. Maybe then some of the guilt she felt over their father’s death would ease.

  She couldn’t do anything tonight, though. Leo and Rennie would be in bed and asleep soon, and she had to concentrate on herself. She needed to get ready to go to the Harp. To sing.

  Excitement swirled inside her, along with anticipation.

  Silly. She’d been performing there on Fridays for the past two years.

  Last week had been different, though.

  Last Saturday, she hadn’t held back. Hadn’t tried to disappear into the woodwork. She’d been herself again. Not Chantal.

  Delaney.

  And she’d done it without Grey Goose. Without drugs.

  Without sex.

  She’d thought about sex, though. She’d thought about Sam while she was drumming.

  She was deciding what to wear when her phone buzzed in the kitchen. She ignored it as she held up an aqua blue tank top. It was one of her favorites. She’d always worn baggy Tshirts when she played at the Harp. But she was done hiding. She slipped on the tank, then covered it with a thin gray sweater. When she got too hot, she could take off the sweater.

  As she tugged on her jeans, the phone buzzed again. This time she picked it up. Sam.

  She glanced at the clock. Bathtime.

  Her hand tightened around the phone. She wanted to answer it. It would be another opportunity to connect with Leo and Rennie.

  She could stop by their place on her way to the Harp, then grab something to eat once she got to the pub. It wouldn’t take long.

  She forced herself to set the phone on the kitchen table. It vibrated in a circle, but she wouldn’t let herself pick it up.

  Not tonight. She had a job to do. And she was helping no one if she charged to the rescue every time Sam had a problem.

  A tiny voice whispered that she was being selfish. If Sam had enough problems, he’d be more willing to let her get involved with Leo and Rennie.

  She ignored the voice. She’d never claimed to be a saint.

  Once Sam figured out that money couldn’t help what troubled Leo and Rennie, maybe he’d stop asking for the CDs.

  Selfish.

  She ignored the voice again. The publicity storm those CDs would produce would change her life forever. She’d paid enough for her sins as Chantal. She couldn’t afford any more.

  BY THE TIME DELANEY reached the Harp, excitement swirled with terror, just like it did every Friday. As soon as she walked in the door, her gaze went to the bottle of Grey Goose on the shelf above the bar.

  No. She didn’t need it. She’d performed last week without it, and she could do it again.Some of the anxiety faded as she set up her drums, and her confidence grew. She felt as if she were floating. A burden had shifted, become a little lighter. The craving for alcohol hadn’t gone away, but she could control it. She was in charge, not the bottle.

  It felt damn good.

  She slid onto her stool, anticipation thrumming through her blood. Hank leaned over. “You’re going to sing tonight, aren’t you?”

  “Damn right I am.”

  He raised his hand and she gave him a soft high five. “Yeah, baby,” he said.

  They were halfway through the second song when the door opened again, letting in the pine-scented breeze.

  Along with Sam, Leo and Rennie.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THEY LOOKED TERRIBLE.

  One of the sticks began to slip out of her hand, but Delaney caught herself and kept playing. Thank goodness she wasn’t the featured singer right now.Sam’s shoulders were hunched, his hair disheveled and his coat hanging open. The lines on his face were deeper and more prominent than yesterday, and he seemed desperate. When their eyes met, he didn’t turn away. It was as if he was drowning and she was his life preserver.

  The kids looked worse than Sam. Rennie’s hair was a tangled mess and her dress was inside out. She wore one boot and one house slipper. Her jacket was unzipped, too, and she had a neon-orange mustache, as if she’d been drinking orange soda. Her eyes drooped, but when she saw Delaney, she tried to run up to her.

  Leo caught her hand and dragged her back. His face was sullen. Sam led them over to a table, and Leo slouched in the chair as if he would rather be anyplace else.

  What had happened today?

  Maddie came over to take Sam’s order. When she returned with the drinks, Delaney was surprised to see he’d ordered soda. If ever a man looked as if he needed a drink, it was Sam.

  Something softened inside her. He had the kids with him. He was driving.

  She joined in the chorus of the song, and by the time she looked back at Sam’s table, Rennie had laid her head down. Her eyes were closed.

  The little girl should be home in bed. Why had Sam brought them to the pub?

  Leo was playing with his straw, swirling the ice in his glass. Some of the stiffness in Sam’s shoulders eased as he took a drink and watched her.

  It was hard to miss the plea in his eyes, even from twenty feet away. His day must have been hellish. He’d come here tonight because he needed her.

  She hadn’t been needed in a long time. For the past three years, she’d kept herself carefully separate from everyone in her life. If there were no expectations, there could be no disappointment.

  Tonight, she wanted to help Diesel’s kids.

  As Sam continued to watch her, a different kind of need built. It beat heavily in her blood, drummed through her body, until all she saw was Sam.

  Tonight, she wasn’t craving a drink. She had a different demon to battle.

  This wasn’t unfocused lust that she could easily dismiss.

  She wanted Sam. She could blame it on the adrenaline of performing, but there was nothing impersonal about it.

  He was Diesel’s brother. The man threatening to tell the world who she was.

  She finally understood the true meaning of irony.

  Sam slumped in his chair, and she yearned to kiss the weariness from his eyes, m
ake them darken with desire instead of worry.

  She watched him as she played, her muscles flexing and releasing, sweat pouring down her back. When she sang, she was singing to him. All the lyrics about love and tenderness, heartache and heartbreak, were for him.

  His laserlike gaze was focused only on her. It was like kindling to the fire building inside her, and she shifted restlessly on her stool. Sam gripped the plastic soda glass but didn’t drink. Maddie went to the table and said something to him, and he answered without looking at her.

  Maddie glanced at Delaney, back at Sam, and smiled.

  Paul hit the first chord of “Learning to Fly,” and Delaney pounded out the drum combination in time with the beat of her heart. Then Paul nodded at her to take the lead.

  As she sang about loss and learning to live again, she thought about the long road she’d taken as she struggled to fly without wings. Sam wanted to tear it all down, make her relive her past.

  It didn’t matter. She still wanted him. Maybe she hadn’t evolved as far from Chantal as she’d thought.

  When she finished the song, the room was silent for a heartbeat. Then it exploded in applause.

  THE FINAL NOTES of “Learning to Fly” washed over Sam, then the pub came alive with yelling and clapping. He barely noticed the noise. Nothing existed but Delaney and her heartbreaking cover of that song.

  She’d been singing about loneliness and need. His heartache. His pain. He’d never hear that song again without thinking of her.The words still seemed to quiver in the air around him. His skin tingled, as if she’d been touching him. His heart raced as he watched her.

  She’d been watching him all night.

  The pregnant waitress came to the table with another soda for Leo.

  “So you’re a friend of Delaney,” she said as she set it down.

  It was an effort to turn away from Delaney. “She’s a neighbor.”

  “Is that right? She hasn’t mentioned any new neighbors.” The redhead rested her order pad on her enormous stomach.

  “We just moved in.”

  “Didn’t take you long, did it?”

  “It’s a long story,” he muttered. This was why he didn’t live in a small town.

  The band began another song, and he glanced at Delaney. She smiled a little, a tiny upturn of her lips. He wanted to taste that smile.

  “Your kids look kind of tired.” The waitress nodded at the sleeping Rennie.

  “We’re not his kids.” Leo’s straw made a hollow sound as he slurped the last drops of soda from his first glass.

  There was pity in the waitress’s gaze as she glanced from Sam to Leo. “God, Delaney,” she muttered as she turned away. “What have you gotten yourself into?”

  Sam was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to hear that. Delaney hadn’t gotten herself into anything. He’d dragged her into his mess.

  Tonight, he wanted to drag her into his bed. For one night, he wanted to forget about his niece and nephew, forget about the horrible day he’d had, forget about everything but her. He wanted to drown his uncertainty, his turmoil, in Delaney, and let her wash it all away.

  Tomorrow, they’d be on opposite sides again. But for one night, he wanted to forget the wall that stood between them.

  She hadn’t sung this way last week. She’d been subdued, as if she didn’t want anyone to notice her. Tonight, everyone in the pub was riveted. They all watched the band, but it was impossible to see anyone but Delaney.

  Sam wished the pub was empty. She was singing for him, and the connection was too intimate, too personal to share.

  He shook his head. Everyone in the pub probably felt the same way.

  The band finally took a break, and the audience began moving around. Rennie still slept, oblivious to the commotion. Leo lounged in his chair, trying to project an air of world-weariness. Instead, he just looked lost.

  Delaney picked her way through the tangle of equipment at the front of the room, and her footsteps slowed as she neared the table. When she reached them, her face was flushed. Sweat pearled on her temples and the sweater she wore was plastered to her chest. She peeled it off and slung it over her shoulder, revealing a blue tank top that was the exact color of her eyes.

  Forcing himself to look at her face, Sam said, “Hey, Delaney. You sounded amazing.”

  “Thanks.” She held his gaze for a beat too long, then glanced at Rennie and Leo. “The guys are really good.”

  “I was talking about you.”

  The blue of her eyes was the color of a stormy sea. “It takes four of us to make music.”

  “You were okay,” Leo said with a sneer. “My dad was better.”

  Sam opened his mouth to tell him not to be rude, but Delaney put her hand on the boy’s arm. “Yeah, he was. You should be very proud of your dad.”

  Leo shrugged one shoulder, using his straw to stir the ice in his glass. “He’s dead.”

  “But he left a lot behind. You and your sister and some wonderful music.”

  “I guess.”

  Sam nodded at the remaining chair. “Can you sit with us for a minute?”

  “Sorry. I have to…I have to get something to eat.” She looked at Rennie again. “And you need to get going.”

  Their waitress appeared and handed Delaney a drink, which she gulped down. “So, Del,” she said when Delaney set the empty glass on the table. “How’s it going?”

  “Good, Maddie.”

  “We’ll get together soon,” the waitress said. It sounded almost like a threat, and Delaney laughed.

  “You can try.”

  She turned back to Sam. “Take these kids home, Sam,” she said. “They need to be in bed.”

  Before she could escape, several people stopped to compliment her.

  When the last person left, Sam said quietly, “No one could take their eyes off you. You were good last week, but not like this. What changed?”

  Delaney shrugged. “There was no reason to hold back. This might be my last chance to sing with the guys.”

  “Why’s that?”

  She stared at him for a long moment. “I won’t drag the band or the pub into my messes. Do you know what it would be like here if I played and sang after…?”

  She picked up her glass, saw it was empty and put it down again. “Anyway. I decided that if I was going down, I might as well enjoy it.”

  “Going down?” Then he realized what she was talking about—his threat to write the article about her. It made him feel small and cheap.

  “Thanks for coming, Leo.” Her gaze touched Rennie, then lingered on him. “Sam.”

  He watched the sway of her hips in snug jeans as she walked away.

  “Leo, I need to talk to Delaney for a moment. Can you wake your sister up and help her get her coat on?”

  “Duh,” the boy said sarcastically. “What do you think, dude?”

  Leo’s eyes were bruised and forlorn. Sam put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. Leo let it rest there for a moment before he jerked away.

  “I think you do a great job of looking after your sister, Leo.”

  When he turned, Delaney had disappeared into the crowd. He craned his neck and saw the tips of her blonde hair headed toward the back of the pub.

  She was almost at the kitchen door when he caught up with her. “Delaney, hold on.”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “What were you thinking, Sam, bringing those kids here so late?”

  He was thinking he needed her. “We had an awful day. Rennie was crying because she wanted you. This was the only thing I could think of.”

  Delaney shook her head. “I’m sorry to hear that.” Her gaze softened. “You seem like a smart guy, Sam. You’ll work it out.”

  Another person congratulated her, and she deflected the praise as usual. She was far from the selfish, self-centered woman he’d assumed her to be.

  Shame burned in the pit of his stomach. If he’d been wrong about that, maybe he’d been wrong about other things, too.

  �
��I’d like to see you tonight. There are some things I have to discuss with you.” He wanted more than talk, but they could start with that. Suddenly, he had a lot of questions. “Could you stop over after you’re finished here?”

  Her face was still flushed and her eyes dark. Her gaze dropped slowly to his mouth. Lingered. “That wouldn’t be a good idea, Sam. For either of us.”

  Lust arrowed through him. “Why not? I just want to talk.”

  She studied him closely. “Really?”

  “Are you afraid you wouldn’t be safe?” he asked.

  Her mouth sent his simmering desire to a boil. “I’m more worried about you.”

  “What?” He reached for her, but she stepped through a swinging door and disappeared. He wanted to follow her. To find out what she meant. He glanced over his shoulder at Leo and Rennie. Leo’s blond head was bent close to his sister’s red one. Was he telling her that Sam would be right back? That he hadn’t abandoned them?

  Delaney would have to wait. With a quick, fruitless glance through the small circular window in the door, he turned away.

  Had she really implied he wouldn’t be safe with her? Desire throbbed with a heavy beat as he hesitated, torn between what he wanted and what he needed to do. Finally, he headed toward Leo and Rennie.

  Want would have to wait.

  But not for long.

  BY THE TIME HE REACHED the dark house, both the kids were asleep. Leo’s head lolled against the door, his mouth open, his hair hanging over his face. Rennie had slid down to lean on her brother’s shoulder, suspended there by her seat belt.

  It took only minutes to carry them into the house, pull off their shoes and put them into bed. Sam brushed Rennie’s hair out of her face and tucked the blanket under her chin. There must be something he could do with all those curls to keep them from getting so tangled. He’d ask Delaney. Hair was one of those mysterious female things that men never understood.Delaney’s hair had been damp when she finished playing. She put everything into her drumming—he’d seen the sweat-darkened spots on her tank top, the perspiration sliding down her temples.

  Did she throw herself into everything she did the same way?