The Summer He Came Home Part 35

This was it. The moment that would change his life. He knew this as surely as he knew her soon-to-be ex-husband would most likely rot in a Crystal Lake jail cell until Thursday. At the earliest.

"And?" he asked.

She swept her lips across his. "I love you."

He groaned and claimed her mouth in a kiss that had his senses reeling. It was both gentle, and urgent and caressing and s.e.xy. She tasted like everything he'd ever wanted, and as he stood with Maggie in his arms, with the absolute knowledge that she belonged to him on every level that existed, he was grateful.

And for the first time since arriving back in Crystal Lake, he felt like he'd truly come home.

Chapter 36.

Later that night...

The sun had disappeared over an hour ago, leaving behind the moon and stars. Overhead they shone like a blanket of crystals strewn across the velvet sky. The air was still warm, and antic.i.p.ation ran rampant.

Maggie hugged Michael as they stood in front of the stage and watched one of the technicians-or road crew, as Cain called them-fiddle with some of the wires. Cain would be on in a few minutes, and she was nervous, which was silly.

The day had been wonderful and awful and amazing and terrifying. Dante was sitting in a jail cell, locked up, and from what she'd been told, his arraignment would be several days away. It had been his bad luck to come after her on a long weekend.

They were pressing charges, and Cain was determined to see him punished. She'd spent a fair bit of time at the station house-there'd been interviews and pictures taken for evidence. They'd missed the football game, but none of that mattered now.

Michael had been spared most of the violence, and though he'd been rather quiet since the morning, he'd slowly come around. Cain had done his best to make her son feel safe, and with his father in jail, there was no immediate threat. They'd promised Michael that his father would never hurt them again.

For the first time in years, Maggie felt free of a past that had brought her nothing but pain. Her chin rested on top of Michael's head, and she hugged him until he squirmed.

"Mom, you're hurting me."

"Sorry," she murmured.

Someone b.u.mped her from behind, and Maggie stumbled. She glanced to the left and tried not to laugh. Mrs. Lancaster and her husband, Pastor Frank, were unfolding chairs, and everyone gave them a wide berth. No one wanted to be responsible for trampling the head of their church.

It was a strange thing to see at a rock show, but this was Crystal Lake after all. Maggie watched as Pastor Frank settled into his seat and his wife joined him. They whipped out popcorn, drew a blanket across their legs, and then Mrs. Lancaster pulled out two sets of the biggest, baddest headphones Maggie had ever seen. They were bright orange-neon orange, really-and she couldn't be sure, but it looked like they glowed in the dark.

"You've got to be kidding." Raine slid in beside Maggie, her eyes on the Lancasters.

"What are they exactly?" Maggie asked.

"They're heavy-duty earplugs, is what they are."

"Oh. Why bother coming to a show like this, then?"

Raine shrugged. "Cain's one of this town's favorite sons. No one is going to miss this concert."

"I've never heard him sing," Maggie confessed.

"What?" Raine was shocked. "He's never picked up a guitar and sung for you?"

"No." She shook her head. "We've been busy..."

"Uh-huh, I know. You've been busy getting to know each other. Busy doing other things."

Maggie blushed and nodded. "I guess so."

"Mom." Michael tugged on her arm and pointed a few feet away. "Tommy's over there. Can I stand with him?"

Sharon and Roger waved. "Sure, babe, but stay in front, all right?"

"He seems to have shaken off what happened with his dad," Raine said quietly as they watched Michael jog over to his friend.

"I hope so. Cain's been wonderful."

"So what are your plans?"

Maggie warmed at the thought. "Michael and I are going to spend the rest of the summer at the cottage with Cain, and then I'm not sure. We haven't really had a chance to talk about it." She paused and then asked a question that she'd been wondering about since she arrived at the football field with Cain.

"Raine, where did Jake go? He came to say good-bye, and I got the feeling it was a long good-bye. Cain was more than a little upset."

The brunette's face fell, and she glanced away for several moments. "Last night...stuff happened, things were said that can't be taken back, and I think Jake pretty much hates me."

"Oh Raine, that's ridiculous. And so far from the truth."

"Really?" she said bitterly. "What does 'I can't stand to f.u.c.king be around you' mean exactly?"

Maggie bit her lip. It wasn't her place to speak for Jake. The two of them would work things out eventually. At least she hoped so.

Lauren Black appeared from the dark and immediately enveloped Maggie in a hug. "I'm so happy for you." The woman's eyes twinkled, and her face was lit with a grin that went from ear to ear. "Wonderful news."

Maggie smiled in return, but was a little confused by the woman's words. "I'm not sure what you mean."

At that moment the lights went dark. A single spotlight cut through the night and followed a man as he walked to the microphone setup center stage. Cain had changed into jeans, boots, and simple black T-s.h.i.+rt. His hair was longer than when he'd first arrived, but it suited him, and his smile as he gazed out at the crowd was a thousand watts of beauty.

The crowd was going wild, hooting and hollering for one of their favorite sons to play some music.

He strummed a few chords and let the crowd's excitement build. The entertainment had been ongoing all afternoon, with seven bands performing, and now the crowd was at fever pitch. Nearly five minutes later, he finally had to hold his hands up, and the crowd eventually quieted.

Watching him up there made her heart beat and her stomach roll. He glanced down at her, and Maggie blushed like a schoolgirl.

He had easily slipped out of the skin she'd come to love and stepped back into the part of him she hadn't experienced yet. It was still the Cain she knew, but up there on the stage with the lights he existed on an entirely different plane. His charisma was unmistakable, and it rushed over the crowd as if following an invisible conduit that originated from inside him.

He started to play a melody, a haunting, evocative piece. His fingers flew along the frets, and he pulled such beauty from it that tears stung the corners of her eyes. Something inside her burst, and Maggie's throat constricted, full of emotion. She recognized the piece. It was something he hummed to himself when they were alone together.

"It feel's good to be back home." Cain's spoke into the microphone and smiled as the crowd erupted once more. He gazed out at the crowd. "It's been way too long."

He continued to play the melody, and behind him the lights slowly came up. Maggie saw Dax off to the side, a huge grin on his face. Gone were the gla.s.ses. He looked intense. He winked at her and saluted.

"I hope you've all had a great day. I know you've heard a lot of great music, and maybe you guys are getting a little tired, but if it's all right, I just may play all night." Cain grinned and the roar was deafening. "But before I start, I've got something really important to do."

The crowd fell silent, as if sensing something out of the ordinary was about to occur. Cain looked down at her, and Maggie's heart swelled to the point that her chest felt too tight. It was almost painful.

"You see, I left home ten years ago to find my future. I thought it was out there somewhere, far away from here." He shook his head and shrugged. "I thought that Crystal Lake had taught me everything it could, and if I was gonna make something out of my life, I needed to leave." He took a step back and cleared his throat.

"Turns out I was wrong."

He looked down at Maggie, and her toes curled at the heat and intensity in his eyes. "I came home for Jesse Edwards's funeral and ended up finding something I didn't even know I was missing."

Cain continued to play for several moments as the crowd cheered and clapped. "I guess you've all heard by now that Blake Hartley has left the band." Cain glanced at Dax, who shrugged and kept moving to the hypnotic beat that fell from his ba.s.s guitar. "We wrote a lot of songs together, he and I, shared a lot of things"-Cain snorted-"including my wife. I'd write the melody, and Blake worked his magic with the words. For a while now I've been afraid that I couldn't write the words like Blake did and that maybe BlackRock was over."

He paused-all music stopped-and the entire football field quieted. "But then I met this girl, and she rocked my world in ways I'd never experienced before, and I realized something." He chuckled and looked out at the crowd as his fingers drew the melody from his guitar once more. "I realized that BlackRock wasn't over. I realized I had all this emotion in me, and last night I wrote some words down. If it's all right, I'd like to sing them for you."

The crowd was now in a frenzy.

"The song's called 'Never Say Good-bye,' and I'll sing it, but first..." His eyes never left hers, and he stopped playing his guitar. "I can't, uh, play another note until Maggie O'Rourke agrees to marry me."

"Holy c.r.a.p, get up there!" Raine tugged on her arm.

The crowd went silent, eerily so, and for a second Maggie was frozen. Her feet felt like they were encased in cement.

"Mom! You have to answer him!" Laughter greeted Michael's shout, and it rippled through the crowd until the silence was replaced with cheering-loud, animated cheering.

Cain looked down at her. "So what's it going to be, Maggie?"

Raine tugged on her arm. "You need to go to him."

The crowd stood back and watched as Maggie moved to the side of the stage, where a roadie helped her up.

And then she was there with him in the spotlight, and his arms were around her, his hands in her hair, his mouth on hers. The crowd went wild, and when she pulled away, she mouthed the word yes. It was all she could do. Maggie didn't think she could speak.

Cain laughed. "I think you're going to have to do better than that, babe."

Maggie glanced out at the crowd, looked down into Michael's s.h.i.+ning face, and cleared her throat.

She angled closer to the mike, closed her eyes, and shouted, "h.e.l.l, yes, so now sing the d.a.m.n song!"

The band kicked in, members of Shady Aces and Dax building the rhythm behind Cain's melody and words. Maggie stood beside him as he sang, and the words that fell from his lips were indeed magical.

They spoke of longing, of love and fate.

Crystal Lake was blessed with a concert like none it had ever seen before. Cain Black kept his promise. He played until his fingers couldn't move anymore, and not one person left.

Not until long after the last note was played.

Read on for an early look at

The Christmas He Loved Her Coming October 2013 from Sourcebooks

Chapter 1.

The cemetery where his brother rested was a desolate place in late November. It sat upon a drab green hill, surrounded by a forest of pine and birch. In the distance, Crystal Lake s.h.i.+mmered through skeletal tree limbs like wisps of blue silk as a cold wind swept inward and drew white caps on top of the water.

Jake Edwards pulled his jeep over to the shoulder, cut the engine and slowly exhaled. His fingers gripped the steering wheel so tightly they cramped, and though he stretched them out and tried to relax, it was no use. He was wound tighter than a junkie in rehab, and he drummed a methodical tune along the dashboard as he gazed out the window. This particular cemetery was the oldest in town and many of Crystal Lake's founding families were buried within its borders. Grand mausoleums and tombstones rose against the dull gray sky, painted dark, like a macabre, city skyline. He stared at them for several long minutes, eyes hard, mouth tight, as a light rain began to fall. It was nothing more than a drizzle really and created a mist that hung over the cemetery, though he only had eyes for the row just beyond the large oak tree.

Row number thirty-six. His brother, Jesse's, row.

The darkness in him stirred leaving the taste of bitterness on his tongue. He let it settle. He let it burn. h.e.l.l, these days it was the only thing that told him he was still alive.

A crow flew lazily in the sky, slicing through the haze until it swooped low and settled on top of a large, stone angel not far from him. The bird ruffled its feathers in slow controlled movements. It c.o.c.ked its head, then turned and stared at Jake-small beady eyes steady, as it slowly blinked.

Abruptly, Jake turned the key and put his jeep in gear. He continued down Lakesh.o.r.e Road because he sure as h.e.l.l wasn't ready to deal with the cemetery yet.

His parents were expecting him, but first he had one more stop-a certain someone he needed to see. A certain someone he was d.a.m.n sure had no desire to see him, and he didn't blame her one bit. Not after the way he'd left things.

Jake Edwards had screwed up and it was time to set things right.

Five minutes later he stepped out of his truck and slung a worn leather bag over his shoulder as he glanced up at a small cottage set back a few hundred feet from the road. At one time it had been a carriage house and was a solid structure built entirely of large blocks of gray, weathered, limestone. A simple white spindled porch ran the length of it, with empty baskets hung at each corner, their usual treasure of poppy-red geraniums long dead.

An old, rickety rocking chair moved gently on its own there, the legs squeaking as it moved back and forth, pushed by either the crisp breeze that rolled in off the lake, or the ghost of Josiah Edwards, an ancestor said to haunt the woods.

Jake pulled the collar of his leather jacket up to his chin and shuddered as a strong gust of wind whipped across the still green lawn. He glanced up at the sky once more. Clouds gathered, a bulbous display over the lake, their slate gray color barely discernible amongst the gloom.

They were definitely snow clouds.

Jake took a step forward, eyes narrowed as his gaze took in an expensive Mercedes parked near the house next to a rusting and faded-yellow Volkswagen. He wasn't sure who owned the Mercedes but the rust bucket he knew well. The ancient beetle had seen better days that's for sure, but then it had been a broken down mess when she had first bought it.

The car belonged to his sister-in-law, Raine, and in a world gone to s.h.i.+t, was something that hadn't changed.