Page 27 of False Promises

“In Nashville. I gave him the week off.”

Dahlia’s lips twisted. “See, you’re too trusting. There are many crazy people out there, Carter. Don’t take chances. You never know. And when the press learns you’re setting up here, some may try to catch pictures of you. Don’t risk your security or your privacy.”

“Fine. You convinced me when you said the press. I hate those vultures.” I draped my arm over her shoulders and pulled Dahlia against me. “Think Jack would love a guitar-shaped bed? I could ask Stud to make one for him. What do you think?”

Stud, our ex-bandmate, now ran his own wood workshop business in Oregon. He was as talented with manual labor as with music. Whatever his fingers touched turned into gems.

“Cart, Jack is just a baby.”

“Sure, but one day he’ll run around and won’t sleep in a crib anymore. I’m thinking long-term here. If I’m doing this, I’m doing it right.”

Dahlia kissed my cheek. “You always do the right thing, even when you’re stubborn. In the end, you let your heart lead the way.”

“Yeah, well, let’s see how it turns out this time around.” I sighed. “I have a great feeling about this.”

And for the first time in what seemed like forever, flutters invaded my stomach at the idea I was doing something for myself. Something that I knew would make me proud. And happy.

Sitting on a large rock with Jack positioned on a blanket between us, we ate while discussing anything and everything.

The warm breeze swept Dahlia’s hair, and for a minute, I got lost in the sight of her, admiring each of her features. My heart did one of its flips in my chest, followed by a band of tightness that I felt only around her. Even after all this time, my feelings for my best friend hadn’t changed. They might have even multiplied. Perhaps us not being next-door neighbors was for the best after all. As she said, if she had a man coming over, it would drive me nuts. Dahlia wasn’t even dating, and just the thought of her offering her heart to someone else one day had me gritting my teeth. A wave of jealousy, that I had no right to feel, messed with my breathing. Not wanting her to read my thoughts, I moved to my feet and pretended to make a phone call. “Gimme a few minutes. I’ll be right back.” I kissed the top of her head and Jack’s cheek and scurried away.

The more distance I put between us, the easier my breathing became.

Hiding behind my truck, I pressed my forehead against the warm steel frame and exhaled the remnants of angst tightening my stomach.

“She needs you as a friend. Don’t screw it up,” I said to myself. “Get your heart in check.”

Easier said than done.

I paced the ground where Dahlia couldn’t see me from that giant rock she was sitting on, tugged at the roots of my hair, and dragged a hand over my face. Right now, I wished I could change into running gear and evade the present for an hour or two.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

For now, I could be Dahlia’s best friend. I had to be. There was no place in her life for love. She repeated it every time I tried to bring up the subject.

“I’m perfectly content with my life at the moment. I’m thriving. And Jack, for now, is the love of my life. I’ve never been on my own, and even though some days it scares me, it’s also satisfying to realize I can do this and that I’m enough.”

I understood how she felt because it was the same way I felt when I agreed to become Carter Hills the solo artist instead of the band. That I was enough on my own and didn’t need other people to make me shine.

With confident steps, I returned to my family’s side.

Dahlia’s gaze met mine as I took a seat on her right. Everything all right? Her eyes asked.

Yes, they will be. Thank you for being here. With me. I replied.

For now, our friendship would have to be enough. Together, we lost ourselves in quiet contemplation.

As I took in Dahlia watching the scenery with a relaxed stance and with Jack fast asleep in my arms, I had no doubt I belonged here with them. Even though it was just part-time for now. Even though the status of our relationship was still hard to define.

* * *

“I’m done. Finally,” I announced as I slumped down into Dahlia’s cream leather couch, exhaustion lacing my words. “It was the shortest world tour I ever did, but the most tiring.”

Last night, I had come home after intense few months abroad, touring Europe, Australia, and parts of Asia, in-between a stretch in Canada and the US. I had released my second solo album almost a year ago. Time flew.

Dahlia handed me a bottle of water and sat beside me, resting her head on my shoulder, her copper hair a contrasting halo around the fair skin of her angelic face.

“Can you imagine it’s been almost three years since that day Jack and I were watching your big return from the side of the stage in Jacksonville? It feels like a lifetime ago.”