Our Kind of Love by Kait Nolan

Chapter 4

Kyle woke to silence. For long moments, he lay still, eyes closed, trying to orient himself. There was no sense of motion from sleeping on the bus. None of the city noises he’d grown accustomed to on the road. He heard none of the muted sounds of Nashville traffic from his loft. Cracking his eyes, he registered he was on a sofa, in a house he hadn’t seen in more years than he cared to count.

The farm.

Abbey.

Rolling to his back, he scrubbed both hands over his face, and his whole body twinged from wedging his six-foot frame onto too short a couch. Abbey had offered him a guest room, but he’d opted for the sofa in case Granddaddy needed something in the night because he figured if he didn’t, she would, and she’d looked ready to drop last night. Besides, after all these years on the road, he’d trained himself to sleep wherever, whenever he could.

He sat up, shoving off the quilt and scooping a hand through his hair as he took in the room he hadn’t paid much attention to last night. He recognized Grandma Ruth’s painting of the east orchard hanging above the mantle. The built-in bookcases on either side were still stuffed to bursting with a hodgepodge of books and family photos. There were new slipcovers on the chairs that flanked the fireplace, and it looked like they’d picked up some new end tables to go with the newer sofa where he’d spent his night. But even with the changes, even after all these years, this place still felt like home in a way nowhere else ever had. Not that he’d stayed anywhere else long enough to make what would constitute a home. His loft didn’t quite count since he was so often on tour.

Gray dawn light told him it was early. Scenting coffee, he pulled on his T-shirt and followed his nose to the kitchen. Grabbing a mug from the cabinet by the sink, he poured himself a cup and enjoyed the first hit of caffeinated steam, knowing he didn’t have to race to be anywhere, do anything. Sipping at the scalding black brew, he wandered out to the front porch to watch as the sun rose over the same orchards in Grandma Ruth’s painting. Gooseflesh rose along his arms from the chill morning air, but he didn’t go back inside. Unfamiliar peace wrapped around him, soothing jagged edges. Something in him realigned and settled at the sight. As if he’d been out of phase with himself until this moment. It wasn’t so far from the truth.

“Surprised you’re up.”

Kyle didn’t jolt at the sound of Abbey’s voice. Maybe a part of him had known she’d be out here. He looked over to find her wrapped in a thick gray sweater and blanket, in one of the wicker chairs that lined the front porch. Her blonde hair was pulled into a messy tail that trailed over one shoulder, and her big, doe eyes were still heavy from sleep as she blinked at him over her own steaming mug. A melody began to unfurl in his brain as he took her in, and his fingers itched for a pen and paper.

“Granddaddy okay?” he asked.

“Still sleeping. But that probably won’t last much longer. He’s usually up with the sun.”

Kyle grunted and sipped more coffee, forcing himself to look away from her toward the land he’d once loved more than anywhere else in the world. It was more run down than he remembered. Some sagging eaves here, peeling paint there. Guilt prickled at that. Had they struggled? Were things worse than he’d realized after his parents went to prison? He didn’t feel like he could ask. Not now.

Abbey shoved up from her chair. “I need to call into work. No way can Granddaddy go back to senior care today.”

“I can stay with him.” The offer was out before the caffeine hit his brain, but Kyle didn’t want to retract it.

She was back to looking at him like he’d grown a second head. “What?”

He jerked his shoulders, sipped more coffee. “I don’t have anywhere I need to be. I’m done with the tour.”

Her brows drew together. “Why would you do that?”

It grated that they’d reached a point where such an offer surprised her. “Because you need help, and I’m here. Because he’s the closest thing I ever had to a grandfather. Because once upon a time, we were family.”

A flash of something—Hurt? Temper?—flickered over her face. She opened her mouth to say something, but a shouted, “Dagnabbit!” from inside announced that Granddaddy was up, and she swallowed whatever it was back down.

Without answering, she went inside. For a few more minutes, Kyle stayed where he was, wondering what he’d have to do to convince her to talk about what had happened between them. He figured he could start by making himself useful. By the time Abbey helped Granddaddy into the kitchen, Kyle had bacon sizzling and eggs ready to go into a skillet.

“Lotta fuss for nothing. It’s just a little twingy.”

“It will be a lot worse than a little twingy if you don’t stay off it like the doctor said. Sit. I’ll fix your coffee.” Abbey installed him in a kitchen chair and crossed to the coffeepot.

Kyle felt her gaze on him at the stove, but figured it was better to pretend all was normal. He wasn’t sure what frame of mind Granddaddy was in this morning. Removing the bacon, he drained off the excess grease and dumped in the eggs.

“Smells good,” Granddaddy declared. “You draft your boyfriend as short-order cook this morning?”

Boyfriend?Shit, did Abbey have a boyfriend? In all the chaos yesterday, he’d never asked. He hadn’t even considered the possibility.

Abbey made a choking noise.

Carrying the plate of bacon to the table, Kyle kept his tone easy. “Nah, I figured cooking breakfast was the least I could do for y’all putting me up last night.”

The old man’s eyes narrowed. Did he recognize him? “Well damn, you grew up.”

Kyle laughed. “Sure did. Good to see you, sir.”

“Oh, don’t sir me, boy. And mind those eggs don’t burn.”

He moved back to the stove, wondering how much Granddaddy remembered of the hospital last night.

“Need to hurry on up. I’ve gotta drive down to the feed and farm supply to pick up our order this morning.”

Even without the injured ankle, Kyle was pretty sure he shouldn’t be driving, a fact confirmed by a quick glance at Abbey.

“Actually, I figured we’d have some lessons in how to use those crutches. I’ve got more practice than you. If you need to go somewhere today, I’ll drive you. You can give me the grand tour and show me everything that’s changed, while Abbey’s at work.”

“You don’t have to—” she began.

“Sounds good! Lots of catching up to do. Can’t say I’ll mind having a younger back to load things.”

Kyle slid the bowl of eggs onto the table and met Abbey’s gaze. “It’d be my pleasure.”

Her eyes were ripe with distrust. For a moment, he thought she’d refuse out of stubborn principle. Then her lips flattened. “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

The tone was grudging, but it wasn’t a no, so he’d take it. “We’ll finish breakfast and load all of us up. Granddaddy and I can drop you at the inn so you’ll have your car.”

Oh, she hated needing him for anything. Her nostrils flared with frustration at the situation, but again, she only nodded and shoved back from the table. “Then I’d best clean up and get ready to go.”

“You didn’t eat,” Kyle pointed out.

“Not hungry.”

He could hear the pique in her steps as she went upstairs to shower.

When the banging pipes signaled she’d retreated into the bathroom, Granddaddy lifted his coffee and surveyed Kyle over the rim of his mug. “Well, took you long enough to come home.”

He paused with a forkful of eggs halfway to his mouth. “Sorry?”

“You should be. Don’t know what happened between you two, but it’s long past time for you to fix it. The whole damned situation’s been festering for years. So what’s the plan?”

“I don’t… have one?” A plan would indicate he had a damned clue what he was doing, rather than fumbling his way in the dark.

“That’s just damned foolishness, and you done used up your quota, son. You ain’t gonna win her back without being tactical. My granddaughter’s a Whittaker. Stubborn as they come.”

Granddaddy was a lot more with it than Abbey had led him to believe, and it sounded like he was on Kyle’s side. Kyle didn’t know what to do with that.

When he only continued to stare, Granddaddy arched a bushy brow. “What? I know I’ve got memory problems, son, but I’ve never been blind to how you feel about my granddaughter. You’ve been stupid in love with her since you were knee high.”

Kyle was too stuck on the first thing Granddaddy had said to be flustered at being called out for the feelings he hadn’t fully admitted to anyone. “You think I have a shot at winning her back? Or, hell, winning her in the first place?”

“You won her years ago. You just have to remind her.”

He glanced up at the ceiling, where he could hear muffled strains of what sounded like “You Better Think” by Aretha Franklin. “I don’t think it’ll be that simple.”

“Love never is. But it’s worth the work. Now let’s make a plan.”

* * *

The moment Kyle’sSUV pulled up to the Misfit Inn and Spa, Abbey opened the door and slid out. She needed to escape his orbit for the sake of her sanity.

“Have a good day, Abbey.”

She shot him a level look. “I’m trusting you to behave yourselves.” She’d given him a full list of dos and don’ts for Granddaddy before they left the house.

He saluted from the driver’s seat. “I won’t let you down.”

They’d see about that.

“You’ve got my number if anything happens.” God help her.

“I’ll take good care of Granddaddy.” There was no trace of cocky amusement in his tone or expression, and she could only hope she’d properly conveyed the seriousness of the situation.

Abbey opened the door to the backseat and ducked in to brush a kiss over Granddaddy’s wrinkled cheek. “You behave, too. Don’t overdo on that ankle.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll be good.”

Kyle shut off the engine and slid out of the driver’s seat.

Abbey’s heart kicked up as he circled around toward her. “What are you doing?”

“We’re just gonna grab Griff while we’re here and sort out transportation.”

Oh right, they’d come together.

Jerking her head in a quick nod, she backed away, lifting her hand in a last wave to her grandfather. Sending up a prayer, she turned her back on them both and strode into the spa.

She’d made them leave the house way early, hoping she’d beat everyone to work and get some time and space to clear her head and figure out what to say. The sprawl of figures around the beverage station made it clear she’d have no respite. At least it was only Pru’s sister, Kennedy, who’d wandered over from the inn for the inquisition.

Pru shot out of a chair. “How is your grandfather?”

On a slow exhale of breath, Abbey dropped her purse. “He’s okay. A badly sprained ankle, but things could have been so much worse. He’ll be on crutches and need to stay off it a while.”

Nadia offered her a mug of coffee. “We weren’t sure if we needed to cancel your appointments.”

“For now, no. Kyle’s keeping an eye on him. He stayed at the farm last night after bringing us back from the hospital.” At the assortment of raised brows, she added. “On the sofa.” Ignoring the wide, expectant eyes, Abbey sipped at the coffee.

When she said nothing, Pru prodded, “And is there... something else you want to tell us?”

Abbey opted to play dumb. “About?”

“Girl!” Taryn exploded. “How ’bout what is up with that fine specimen of a man whose guts you have pretended to hate for years coming up in here and laying one on you?”

“Oh. That.” She clutched the mug like a shield and winced. “Is it too early to day drink?”

Kennedy crossed her arms. “Is this a mimosa or tequila sort of situation?”

“Definitely tequila.” A pitcher of margaritas would go a long way toward making her forget about yesterday. Maybe.

“How long have you two been seeing each other?” Pru’s tone was carefully neutral, betraying none of the I-am-your-best-friend-how-could-you-not-tell-me she had to be feeling.

Abbey’s laugh held an edge of hysteria. “Yesterday is the first time I’ve seen him in a decade.”

“But that kiss...”

Wishing for that tequila shot, Abbey just shook her head. “I don’t know what to say about that.”

“I do. That was hot,” Nadia proclaimed.

She’d been trying hard not to think about. Not that her dreams had gotten the message. The whole thing had played in glorious Technicolor repeat last night, with a multitude of different endings that hadn’t involved an audience or interruption by skeezy photographers. She’d woken early, hot and restless and needy. A situation not at all helped by the sight of him sleeping shirtless on the living room sofa this morning. Just the memory of the smooth expanse of his chest and the golden trail of hair that disappeared beneath Grandma Ruth’s quilt had heat blooming in her cheeks.

Her friends smirked.

“I didn’t realize you and he…” Pru trailed off.

Kennedy snorted with disbelief. “Really? I did. I’ve been expecting this for years. And I wasn’t even in the country for most of them.”

“Can we address the elephant in the room? The man is supposed to be engaged,” Taryn pointed out.

Stunned silence gave way to a babble of voices as they all voiced their opinion of that situation.

Abbey pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. “To me.”

“What?” Their chorus of shock echoed off the atrium ceiling.

“It’s not what you think.”

“Oh, this I gotta hear.” Taryn settled in and mimed eating popcorn.

“He’s been getting a lot of pressure to pair up with Mercy Lee Bradshaw. As a publicity thing, I guess. He was tired of his manager and label pushing that agenda, so when he got cornered in an interview yesterday, he blurted out that he was already engaged.”

“Why to you?” Nadia asked.

Her brain conjured a picture of that bubble gum ring and a pretty spring day. She shrugged with more nonchalance than she felt. “We had a marriage pact when we were little.”

“So, it’s not real,” Pru qualified.

“No. That—” Abbey waved her hand, unable to bring herself to reference the kiss. “—yesterday was cover. Apparently.”

“But now everybody thinks you’re engaged,” Taryn pressed.

“I’m sure not everybody. One guy showed up.” She couldn’t imagine this being a big enough deal to be more than a blip.

“Um... not just one,” Pru said. “Four more materialized before the end of the day. We all played dumb like Kyle asked, but I don’t think that’s going to be the end of it.”

Abbey could only stare. How could this be such a thing?

“Maybe we should check to see exactly what’s out there.” Kennedy moved to the computer at the registration desk and pulled up a browser. Her fingers flew over the keys. A few mouse clicks later she whistled. “You’re going to want to see this.”

Abbey circled around to the computer. The image hit her straight in the face. For a moment, the only thing she could see were her hands fisted in Kyle’s shirt, her body plastered to his. Nothing about her body language in that picture supported her position that she was still hurt and furious with him. Then her gaze skimmed up to the bold headline at the top.

Has Country Music’s Captain America found his Peggy?

“This is already everywhere. Abbey, they have your name.”

“Oh, my god.” Knees going weak, she gripped the back of the chair.

This insanity was only just beginning.