Secret Vows

The tension-filled moment passed as a half smile lifted a corner of Danny’s mouth. “That’s good. She needs someone to take care of her.”

“Thank you,” Jason drawled. “I’ll make certain to always take care of her.”

Danny extended his free hand. “Danny Poe.”

Jason had to drop his arm to shake hands. “Jason Cole.”

Greer rested her hand on Jason’s back, feeling his body’s warmth through the cotton shirt. “I have to get back before Bobby comes looking for me.” The mention of her uncle’s name galvanized Danny into action as he headed for the Dumpsters.

“Is he all right?” Jason whispered in her ear as they reentered the restaurant.

Going on tiptoe, Greer pressed her mouth to his ear. “Iraq.”

He laced their fingers together. “Is he in therapy?”

She nodded. “I really have to get back. And I promise to call you.”

Jason leaned against the wall, watching the seductive sway of Greer’s hips in a pair of fitted jeans as she walked away. He didn’t know why he’d admitted to Danny he would take care of Greer because that wasn’t even a remote possibility. She didn’t need a protector when she had Bobby Henry.

He followed Greer, losing sight of her in the crowded restaurant. People were up on their feet singing and fist pumping to Flo Rida’s megahit “Wild One.” A woman grabbed his hand, leading him to a space where the tables were pushed back. Jason found himself caught up in the infectious rhythm as he danced with the petite buxom blonde. Dancing had reminded Jason of how long it’d been since he’d been to a club. Earlier that year he’d dated a woman living in Miami. She had professed to be a certified party girl, and after two months of nonstop partying, Jason was forced to break it off. Their weekends began Friday nights and didn’t end until Sunday morning. He’d been so sleep deprived it had taken several months for him to reestablish a normal sleep pattern.

The song ended and he managed to escape the woman’s clutches, making a beeline toward the exit. He left Stella’s, driving to an all-night mini-mart where he bought milk, eggs, butter and bread. As he drove back home, he thought about how his best-laid plans had suddenly changed. He was now a member of a local band, and he hoped Greer would honor her promise and call him.

Chapter 6

Greer sat on the porch in the cushioned rocker as she stared out at the lake. The cries of a hawk had awakened her and she hadn’t been able to go back to sleep. She had left her bed, showered, washed her hair and pulled on a sweatshirt and pants over her underwear. At dawn the mid-September air was cool and crisp. The smell of pine wafted to her nose as a gentle breeze rustled the branches of massive trees growing around the lake like ramrod-straight soldiers at a military parade.

She’d forgotten the number of times when she got up early, put on a swimsuit and raced out of the house to the lake as if something in there was calling her. The water was cold enough to make her teeth chatter, but after a while she didn’t feel it. Swimming, boating and fishing had become the highlight of her summers, times filled with childlike abandon.

The word abandon conjured up images of Karaoke Night. It had become New Year’s Eve with everyone singing, dancing, eating and drinking. She’d caught a glimpse of Jason dancing with a curvaceous woman. After the song had ended, she looked for him but he’d disappeared.

Greer had promised him she would call him, and she intended to keep her promise. Picking up her cell phone, she scrolled through her contacts and punched Jason’s number. If he was serious about recording her voice, then he would not get upset if she called him at sunrise.

“Jason.”

She smiled. He didn’t sound as if he’d been asleep. “This is Greer,” she crooned.

His soft chuckle caressed her ear. “Good morning.”

“That it is.”

“What are you doing up so early?”

“I could say the same about you,” Greer countered. “I thought musicians stayed up all night and slept all day.”

“Not this one. In fact I don’t get enough sleep.”

Greer had no comeback. She didn’t want to ask if it was music or women that kept him up. “You wanted me to call you,” she said instead.

“Yes, I did. I want to know if you’re willing to block out some time for me to record your voice.”

“What do you intend to do with the demo?”

“That’s something we will have to talk about.”

Shifting on the rocker, Greer pulled her legs up into a yoga position. “I’m free this morning.”

“Are you working tonight?”

“Yes. I have to be at the restaurant between four and four-thirty.” She went in early to set up the buffet station.

“I can pick you up in thirty minutes. Does that give you enough time to be ready?”

Greer wanted to tell Jason that she was more than ready—ready to find out all she could about his friend and neighbor. If Chase hadn’t been so shadowy or standoffish, she would’ve attempted to get close to him directly.

“Yes. Do you know where my uncle’s house is?”

“Yes. I’ll see you later.”

Disconnecting the call, Greer felt as if she’d scaled one hurtle. The next one would be to uncover who Chase was, what did he do and where did he go whenever he disappeared for weeks at a time.

* * *

Jason maneuvered up the paved driveway to Bobby’s house, slowed and parked next to a classic red pickup truck. He turned off the engine and got out of the Range Rover, unable to take his eyes off the restored vehicle. He heard the sound of a door opening and glanced up to see Greer come out of the house. She looked deliciously alluring in a white man-tailored shirt, low-rise black jeans and matching high-heeled leather booties that made her legs appear even longer. He stood there, unable to move, tongue-tied. Slowly, seductively, his gaze slid downward from her face to the sensual curve of womanly hips before reversing itself.

She rested a hip against the porch column. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

The dulcet sound of Greer’s voice shattered his entrancement. “Yes.”

“Johnny B. Goode II is my uncle’s pride and joy.”

Jason frowned in confusion before he realized Greer was talking about the truck. “It’s exquisite. Nineteen fifties?”

She smiled and nodded. “A 1956 model to be exact. Uncle Bobby bought it from a farmer who’d shattered his leg and couldn’t depress the clutch. It took my uncle more than ten years to restore it.”

“I’ve never seen him drive it.”

Greer came down off the porch, while he openly stared at her approach. He repressed the urge to reach out and run the back of his hand over her face to see if it was as velvety as it appeared. He’d admitted to Danny that he was Greer’s man but that was a lie. A falsehood. If circumstances were different, that could possibly become a truth. Jason had worked with a number of female artists since taking over as Serenity’s musical director, but he’d never crossed the line with any of them to mix business and pleasure.

“That’s because he usually keeps it garaged.” She touched the hood. “I learned to drive on this baby.”

“So you like driving a vehicle with a manual transmission.”

“I like control.”

Her statement told Jason everything he needed to know about Greer Evans. “Control,” he repeated softly. “What about compromise, Greer?”

She blinked. “What about it, Jason?”