The Wedding March

His brow rose.

“The emotion and all.”

“Right.”

“It’s my dad’s special day.”

“Congratulations.” He paused, then his gaze moved to the platform and back. “I need to get to work.”

“Work?”

“Wedding band.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

“No problem. Enjoy the rest of the reception.”

“Thanks,” she said as he moved away. Was it her imagination or did he look familiar? She hadn’t been back to town in years, not since her mother and stepfather settled in Cypress Pointe her freshman year of high school. Did she know him from school?

With athletic ease, the man leaped onto the platform, then removed his guitar from a case. He set the instrument in a stand by his feet before moving the case behind the curtain backdrop along the wall. When he finally lifted the strap over his head and plugged in his guitar, it hit her.

Luke Hastings. Only one of the best songwriters in the music industry. A four-time Grammy winner. A man who’d churned out hits before retiring to parts unknown at the height of his career. He’d been in Cypress Pointe all this time?

She’d seen pictures of him in tabloids and magazines, but never paid attention to his handsome features. In person, he made her breath hitch. Which surprised her more? That he lived in her old hometown or that she’d never noticed how good-looking he was? Both, actually. She’d worked with plenty of guys in LA, yet not one made her head turn like Luke did.

“Hey, what’s up with you?” her sister asked as she came up beside her.

“Do you know who he is?” She covertly pointed at Luke.

“Yeah. Luke. He’s a teacher at C.P. High.”

Cassie twirled on her sister. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“About a teacher? Why would you care?”

“Because he’s Luke Hastings.”

Her sister still looked confused. “So?”

“So. So? He’s only a genius songwriter.”

Lauren looked up at the stage, head tilted. “Huh.”

“Huh. That’s all, just huh?”

“Cassie, I work in finance. I don’t know songwriters. That’s your area.”

Cassie glanced over her shoulder, her heart thumping double time. “He’s only a hero of mine. I started writing music after I heard ‘Won’t You Love Me Always.’”

“I remember that song. You used to drive me crazy singing it nonstop.”

She pointed her thumb over her shoulder. “He wrote the lyrics.”

Lauren shrugged. “So goody. You get to meet your idol.”

Cassie went blank. “Meet him?”

“Well, yeah. He’s here. You’re here. Go introduce yourself.”

Did she dare? He’d left the business for a reason. Besides, he was working. Maybe he didn’t want her fawning all over him.

“I... He...”

“You’d better come up with better lyrics than that,” her sister advised as she swooshed off across the room.

Cassie slowly turned. Made her way to the wall where she slumped against it while the wheels turned in her mind. Luke Hastings, a man she’d admired for his song-crafting ability, in the same room as she. Did she dare introduce herself? What did she have to lose?

* * *

LUKE HASTINGS LOOKED up from a quick tuning to find the pretty woman he’d spoken to leaning against the wall. She stared at him, as if she’d seen a ghost.

He might as well be, at least in the music industry. He’d walked away from a lucrative career, turned his back on the one thing he loved most in his life, writing music. Sought refuge in this small town after a public divorce cut his heart and soul to shreds. Yeah, he was a ghost and intended on keeping it that way.

“Luke, did you bring the extra music in case we get requests?” his buddy Ryan asked from his position behind the keyboard.

The band had practiced the bride and groom’s preselected songs, which Luke could play with his eyes closed, but they always kept backup for the odd song a reception guest requested. Luke set his Mac computer on the stand beside him and booted it up. After a few clicks, the music program opened and the band synced together.

“Got it.” Luke glanced over at the drums. “Where’s Sonny?”

Ryan scanned the room then smiled. “Hitting on one of the guests.”

Luke chuckled. “He does know we’re starting in five?”

“Yeah.” Ryan waved. “Here he comes.”

Sonny jumped onto the stage and held up his cell, a goofy grin stretching his lips. “I got her number.”

Brian, the bass player, slapped him on the back. “Great. You can call her when we’re finished.”

“Dude, you’re killing me.”

Luke nodded to the empty seat behind the drums. “You have a job to do.”

Sonny stepped over the amp chords and picked up his sticks.

Luke loved his buddies like brothers, but sometimes he had to rein them in. Sonny constantly looked for a girlfriend, Ryan constantly worried over money since he’d recently become a new dad, and Brian, well, if he were any more laid-back, he’d be asleep. Luke was the glue that held this small wedding band, Sandy Palms, together.

“Hey, who’s the cutie you were talking to?” Sonny asked Luke. “Maybe I can get her number, too.”

“Daughter of the groom.”

“She got a name?”

“Yeah. Sit your butt down and play.”

Sonny frowned. “That’s not a very nice name.”

Luke shook his head. “Please, sit. We’re about to start.”

Sonny took his place and before long, the group started the first song of the set. A few people made their way to the dance floor. Others mingled or finished their meal. After the second song, Luke spoke into the microphone.

“Welcome, everyone, to the wedding reception of the newly married Robert and Angelica Branford. Let’s give them a big round of applause as they have their first dance as a married couple.”

The smiling couple came forward, dancing to a special song picked out by the bride. Since the couple were the parents, the next dance included the daughters. Luke watched the woman he’d spoken to skirt around her father to dance with the bride, not missing the frown on her father’s face at her evasive move. Soon, though, Luke’s attention shifted back to the song. Before long others filled the dance floor. They played five more songs, then took a break.

“I’m off,” Sonny said, jumping from the stage, in search of Miss Right.

Ryan pulled his cell from his pocket. “I need to call Julie. Check on the baby.”

Brian shrugged. “Guess I’ll get a drink.”

As his band members dispersed, Luke unplugged his guitar. He normally didn’t mingle when they played a gig. Most folks in town had heard his history, but for the most part they knew him as a local teacher and left him alone, which suited him fine. He’d put together the band as a musical outlet and as a way for him and his buddies to earn extra cash.

“Excuse me?”

He glanced over to find the daughter of the groom looking up at him, noticing first her striking green eyes, made a deeper shade by the emerald dress she wore, then the indecision written all over her features. “Can I help you?”

“I think so. I hope so, anyway.” She bit her lower lip, then said, “You’re Luke Hastings.”

Great. He knew by her tone she recognized him as the songwriter, not the teacher. “That’s right.”

Her tentative smile spread, lighting up the deep green hue. “I can’t believe it’s you.”

Here we go. “You’ve heard of Sandy Palms, have you?”

Her smile faded and she blinked. He’d thrown her off, just as he’d hoped. “Sandy Palms?”

“Our band.”

“Um, honestly, no. I’m not from around here. I mean, not any longer.”

She didn’t move and he guessed more small talk would be coming.

“Listen, I don’t mean to be rude, but I need to get ready for the next set.”

“Oh, of course.”

And of course he’d hurt her feelings. He really wanted to see the sparkle return to those amazing eyes.

“Wait.” He stepped from the platform. “Do you play?”

“Yes. I’m—”

“Let me guess. A songwriter?”

“At times.”

He chuckled. “Either you are or aren’t.”

“At this moment in time, no.”

“As opposed to other moments?”

She shrugged, the light in her eyes dimming. He tilted his head, intrigued. Then straightened. Stop, his inner voice scolded. He didn’t need a female distraction.

Still, it had been a long time since he’d been floored by a woman’s eyes.

“I didn’t mean to bother you,” she was saying. “I’m a fan and wanted to say hi.”

“You have me at a disadvantage.”

“I’m Cassie Branford.” After a slight hesitation, she held out her hand.

“Well, Cassie, nice meeting you.” He took her hand in his, surprised by the zing accompanying the gesture.

“No, the pleasure is all mine. I remember—”

She stopped when her father approached, losing the airiness from just a second ago. She broke the connection, leaving him bummed that he hadn’t heard more.

“Mr. Branford,” he greeted the groom. “Congratulations.”

The man barely acknowledged him, focused instead on his daughter.

“Cassandra, you aren’t thinking of joining the band for a number, are you?”

Number? What was he talking about?

“No. I was just talking to Luke.”

Mr. Branford looked Luke over, sizing him up in a less than complimentary manner.

“You do know who my daughter is?” he asked, condescension oozing from the man.

Glancing at the woman again, it struck him. With a name to go with the face, he recognized Cassie. He might not be part of the music scene anymore, but he wasn’t dead. Still, with her hair up and wearing a dress that hugged her curves, she didn’t portray the confident woman from pop magazine pictures. Her signature braid, a different color always running through it, was missing at the moment, which had thrown him off.

“Dad. Not now.”

“Well, if you’re going to play he should know. Let you take the lead.”

“Know what?” He should have been paying better attention to the vibe around him, because a sinking feeling warned him all was not right.

Cassie shifted and said, “I’m not playing with the band.”

“You should.”

Luke met her gaze. Read the discomfort there.

“So you’re a professional musician?” he asked, even though he knew the answer.

“Cassandra is a successful popular music artist,” her father boasted. “You both have many things in common.”

Heat flushed through Luke. The protective wall he’d cultivated over the years to keep his old life locked away rose as Cassie’s uncertain smile returned. As much as he tried to maintain a low profile, people from the industry found him from time to time. Granted, Cassie was merely a guest at her father’s wedding, but old habits were hard to ignore. Better to stop this intrusion before it went any further.

“I doubt it.”

Cassie flinched at his tone. “I only wanted to ask about your ca—”

“I’m not part of the industry any longer. I’m sorry, I can’t help you.”

He turned on his heel and walked away. Yeah, he’d been rude, but he’d sensed where the conversation was headed and would rather tap-dance on hot coals than reminisce about the old days. He was not going to talk shop with this woman. Or any woman, for that matter. His time in the music industry was over and he intended on keeping it that way.

CHAPTER TWO

“THANKS, DAD. YOU JUST blew my chance to talk to the greatest songwriter who ever lived.”

Her father lifted a haughty brow. “The greatest who ever lived? I believe that’s a bit of an overstatement.”

“You know what I meant. Luke had a stellar career.”

“Which he walked away from. Messy personal life if I remember correctly.” His eyes narrowed. “And why is it so important to talk to him?”

Like she’d admit her writer’s block to anyone, especially her father. “I’m a fan. That’s all.”

“Cassandra, he’s been reduced to a wedding band singer. Old news. Focus on the future.”

Why did she even bother speaking to her father? Fisting her hands together, she turned and navigated through the mingling guests. What had her father been thinking? See, this was why she kept her distance. Her father didn’t have a clue about who she was or what she wanted.

She’d just reached the door to leave when it hit her. Luke could help her. She needed his expertise. The question was, how could she get it?

The band started up again. Instead of storming off like she’d intended, she went back to the table she’d been seated at earlier. She angled her chair to face the far side of the room. A bird’s eye view of the man in question.

She needed a plan. A way to work up the nerve to ask the legendary Luke Hastings for some tips to help her out of her writing funk. But how? This certainly wasn’t the opportune place to approach him. Yet if she didn’t talk to him tonight, she might miss her one and only chance.

“I just danced with Father,” Lauren said as she flopped into the chair beside her. “He seems distracted. What did you do?”

“Why do you always assume I did something?”

“Because I saw the heated conversation between you two.”

Cassie sent her a sideways glance. “Just the usual. Honestly, I’m more interested in Luke. What do you know about him?”

“Like, what subject he teaches? If he’s involved with anyone?”

“No. His life here in Cypress Pointe.”

Lauren crossed one leg over the other. “Let’s see. Moved here a couple years ago. His cousin owns the Grand Cypress Hotel. He teaches English at the high school and started an after-school program that morphed into a community outreach for at-risk teens.”

“Wow.”

“Kids’ Klub has been pretty successful. Redirects kids going in the wrong direction.”

Noble and hunky. Perfect combination.

“Why are you so interested?” Her sister’s eyes went wide. “Oh, my gosh, you have a crush on him.”

“I do not,” Cassie insisted, even if she couldn’t meet her sister’s gaze. “I want to talk to him about something and it would help if I knew more about him.”

“So explain why your cheeks are red.”

“It’s hot in here.”

“Right. Don’t forget, I’m the one who heard all about your undying love for Chris Johnson.”

“Chris Johnson?” Cassie’s mouth gaped. “That was like eight years ago.”

“And you were crushed when he broke up with you.”

True, she was, but moving away from Cypress Pointe and keeping busy had gotten her through that dark period in her life.

“Just so you know, he got fat.”

Cassie laughed out loud. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

Her sister’s quick grin slowly faded. “I miss our times together.”

“Me, too.”

Cassie’s heart squeezed at her sister’s soft expression. They hadn’t grown apart, exactly, more like distance, time and separate lives put a strain on their relationship. Their differing views on their father, Lauren’s insistence on proving herself to him while Cassie didn’t want him around, created another, ongoing source of tension between them.

“I’m glad you let me stay with you. Since Mom and Bud are still away, I didn’t want to spend all my time in their empty house.”

“That what sisters do. Let each other crash on the other’s extra bed.”

“I was hoping we could—”

Lauren jumped up “Angelica is waving me over. I’ll be right back.”

“Hold on.” Cassie grabbed her arm. “So if Luke is so busy, why the wedding band?”

Lauren shrugged. “You’ll have to ask him yourself.” Then she was gone.

Cassie blew out a sigh.

She glanced across the room. Luke picked the guitar with one hand, his fingers effortlessly positioning the chords with the other, and sang along with the guys. So in the moment, he moved with the beat, smiled at a band member from time to time. How she missed the total abandonment she experienced when she sang and played her piano, lost in the words and the tempo.

Her heartbeat sped up again, matching the emotions swirling inside. As she studied Luke, she realized she’d first thought his hair was shaggy. The more she looked, the more she realized it had been deliberately styled. It gave him a bit of a free spirit look, yet not out of control. Hmm, some stylist in his past life had taught him well.

His fingers expertly moved up and down the neck of the guitar, bringing an unmistakable sound from the instrument. He certainly had a flair. The band performed mostly wedding standards, she noticed, none of the songs that made Luke famous. From his attitude earlier, he probably avoided those particular songs on purpose.

Twenty minutes later the band took a break. Cassie waited for Luke to be alone, but one of the band members was talking his ear off. She should wander over, start another conversation with him, but she couldn’t seem to leave the chair.

Even though he’d made it clear he didn’t talk about the industry, Cassie couldn’t take no for an answer. Her chest constricted, the noose of her future pulling tighter. She could do this. She’d gathered enough information about Luke to make small talk while she bided her time to get to the root of her dilemma. She just had to wait for a chance to grab his attention. Luckily, she was a patient woman.

She swore he’d looked directly at her during one of the numbers, but the lights were too low to know for sure. Her imagination? Hopeful wishing? She sat through two more sets before the party began to wind down and the band finally performed their final number.

To her surprise, the band members took off quickly, leaving Luke to break down the equipment.

Taking a deep breath, she approached the platform.

“You guys sounded great tonight. Been playing together for a while?”

“Couple years.”

“So...I wanted to apologize for my father.”

Luke shot her an amused glance. “Overprotective?”

She’d have laughed out loud at the notion if it wasn’t so sad. “No, more like too much interference in my life.” She moved closer, silently high-fiving the fact that Luke wanted to engage in conversation. “We aren’t exactly close.”

He nodded. “No offense taken. I stopped worrying about what people think a long time ago.”

If only she could adopt the same mantra.

“My sister tells me you teach high school English.”

“I do.” He unzipped his case and gently laid the guitar inside. She admired people who took special care of their instruments. “Never thought I’d impact any kids, but it’s turned out to be one of the best experiences of my life.”

“Did you take over for Mrs. Trumbull?”

“No. She was gone before I arrived. She did leave a legacy behind.”

Cassie shuddered. “Of fear. I remember sweating out the Shakespeare semester. Her assignments were killer.”

Luke chuckled. “I sure hope my legacy isn’t that negative.”

“As long as you don’t pull your hair back in a severe bun, narrow your eyes at your students and make everyone uncomfortable, you should be fine.”

He patted the back of his head. “I never considered a new hairstyle. Maybe a man bun would up my cool factor and keep the kids in line.”

She laughed, delighted by his sense of humor. He didn’t need a bun to be any more good-looking in her eyes.

He snapped the latches on the case and faced her. “Did you do well on the Shakespeare assignment?”

She squinted, thinking back. “B, maybe? I have to say, she laid down a really good foundation. The subsequent years of Shakespeare weren’t so horrible.”

“Not a fan of the bard?”

“I can appreciate the work that went into writing his tales, but translating old English is like math. I’d rather not work that hard if I don’t have to.”

“You sound like the majority of my students.”

“Then let’s hope you make learning fun, not a session in terror.”

“I go over Shakespeare, but throw in other more contemporary works for my students to read.”

“Writing isn’t as easy as everyone thinks.”

“I’m sure my students would agree.” Taking hold of the handle, he lifted the case and stepped down from the platform. “It’s been nice talking to you.”

Cassie’s stomach dipped. She had to keep him interested. “Same here.” She glanced at his case. “You really know how to play.”

“Years of practice.”

“I didn’t get serious until I was in high school.”

He took a step back. “Well, I need to take off.”

By the shuddered look in his eyes, she could tell he’d checked out of the conversation. Drat. She’d lost him.

“Well, I’ll be in town awhile longer. Maybe we’ll run into each other.”

“Anything is possible.”

“I’d love to talk to you about your songwriting days. You’ve been—”

He held his hand up “Let me stop you right there.”

She blinked. His sudden displeasure indicated she’d gone too far.

“I’m not going to talk about music careers, songwriting or whatever you have your mind set on.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t. I just need you to know I’m not available for whatever it is you want.”

Her heart sank as he turned and crossed the room. Good night to you, too, Luke Hastings.

* * *

LUKE STEPPED INTO the mild spring night, his face hot, his chest tight. Upset? Him? Right, not much. Slowly, he eased the pressure of the fist holding the guitar case handle, letting his breath out in slow degrees.

He stopped. Shook out his arms. Tilted his head back.

The dark sky was clear, stars twinkled above him. Cicadas buzzed, hidden beyond the empty golf course. A lonely frog belched nearby. The air, still warm even after the sun had set a few hours ago, held a hint of something sweet, like flowers. In the distance, the sprinkler system sputtered and hissed as it turned on.

All in all, a beautiful night to just let go and not think at all.

If only he could oblige.

He’d gone at least six months without the anger and despair building up. All it had taken this time was an attractive woman with expectation in her eyes to reduce him to this state.

It was clear Cassie wanted something from him. She’d floundered getting to the point, but once she admitted it was to talk shop, he couldn’t handle it. He didn’t have it in him to go back in time, to the place where another woman selfishly bent on fulfilling her dreams had squashed his.

He hated that he wasn’t stronger. But the truth was as clear as the night sky. He hadn’t forgiven Tracy. Was afraid he never could.

He continued walking to his black two-door BMW, his footsteps steady against the pavement. It had been two years since Tracy’s betrayal. Shouldn’t he be over it by now?

Get a clue, Hastings. People will always let you down.

As he unlocked the trunk and laid the guitar case inside, he wondered once again for the millionth time, what was wrong with him. Whoever said time heals all wounds hadn’t been cheated on by an ex-wife.

“You’re leaving kinda late.”

At the sound of a voice in the darkness, Luke froze, until a figure materialized, stepping into the circle of light provided by the overhead fixture. He recognized his cousin, Dane Peterson, a local hotel owner, decked out in a button-down shirt and pressed slacks, his hair cut in his usual short fashion.

He let out a long breath as he slammed the trunk closed. “You want me to have a heart attack?”

Dane held a hand up. “Sorry. Thought you might have noticed me.”

“No. I was thinking.”

“Yeah, I could tell. With you, that’s never good. Tracy?”

“No, actually, I’m...” He paused a beat. “Hey, what’re you doing here?”

“Picking up Nealy. Her car is in the shop.”

“I saw her a few times tonight. She was running all over the place.”

“She loves being an event planner, but this reception was not her dream job. Angelica kept after her until she gave in.”

Luke glanced around. “Where is she?”

“Forgot something and ran back inside.” Dane leaned back against the car, crossing one ankle over the other. “So, what’s up?”

“I met a woman and—”