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For the next five minutes while they finished setting up, Delilah hung around Cassie, talking incessantly. He was impressed with how patient the woman was. Nodding and smiling at Delilah. Leaning down to let his kid whisper in her ear.
His stomach did that weird thing again. Maybe he just wasn’t used to seeing Delilah interacting with women.
Sure. Apart from your mom, your aunts, your cousins, her teachers at school…
Okay then. Maybe he just wasn’t used to watching her interact with women he didn’t know that well. Whatever. It didn’t matter. He was here to spend some time with his brother. Time that didn’t involve building houses or listening to customers bitch at him.
Quality, damn time.
“I think we’re ready.” Marley ambled over to the drum kit and settled himself on the seat, twirling his drumsticks between his fingers.
Pres glanced over at Cassie. She looked nervous as she studied the music on the keyboard stand. She ran her tongue along her bottom lip as she concentrated on the notes.
A second later, her gaze lifted, and she caught him looking.
“Okay?” he mouthed, feeling guilty that his daughter was monopolizing her time when she probably wanted to center herself.
She nodded, smiling. Marley had messaged her last night, to confirm everything and to ask what songs she knew best. He thought they’d start with those. Just practice their voices and their instruments together. Find their own beats. After that, they’d introduce her to their songs.
The first one was an easy one. “Shallow” by Lady Gaga. The song was apparently one of her favorites, according to Marley.
And no, he wasn’t annoyed that his brother and Cassie had struck up such an easy relationship. One where she freely admitted what music she liked to play and where her vocal range lay.
It was fine. More than fine, it was good. He was doing this for his brother, after all.
Marley counted them in, and Pres formed the chords, his fingers plucking the strings as he reached a rhythm. He was aware of her watching him as he leaned into the microphone, his thick voice rasping out the opening words.
He turned to face her, still singing. Her lips were parted, her eyes soft. Her fingers feathered over the keyboard as she kept time to the beat of his voice. In the background he could hear Alex strumming and Marley softly drumming, but his attention was on her.
He reached the end of the first verse, and she swallowed hard, as his guitar led her in. She took a deep breath, her gaze catching his.
And then she started singing, and he felt fucking tingles throughout his body.
She was good. Really good. Much better than she’d been at the audition. Maybe it was the acoustics of the rehearsal room, or maybe she wasn’t as nervous.
He wasn’t sure. But whatever it was, it was damn magic.
Everybody in the room was staring at her. Including his kid.
And when she reached the crescendo, she blasted it out. From the corner of his eye, he could see Delilah clap her hands together with delight. He turned to look at Marley, who was grinning from ear to ear.
And Alex was openly staring at her.
It was his turn to join in. He matched his voice to hers, an octave lower. Raspier, more achy. Their lips moved in sync, their eyes connecting again.
He’d forgotten how good this felt. How music made him feel like he was soaring.
The song ended, and the clapping began. He saw his mom standing next to Delilah. He hadn’t even noticed her come in.
But she was beaming at him. Delilah was jumping up and down. Marley was laughing.
And Christ, was he smiling? Yeah, he was. Or at least his cheeks were doing something unusual.
“Okay. I think she’ll do,” Marley said.
Truth was, she was probably too good for them. But that was her choice. If she wanted to slum it with the Hartson boys, so be it.
“Come on,” he said, not wanting to think about that too much. “Let’s play the next track.”
