Here With You (A Laurel Heights Novel)

chapter Twenty-six



Nicole looked at the charts and figures that Valentine had laid out for her, and her only thought was that she thought she might keel over. That was a problem, because Grounds for Thought was especially busy that afternoon and there wasn't much room around them to pass out.

Valentine leaned forward, her face bright with excitement. "What do you think?"

"I think I'm going to throw up." She put her chin on her fist and stared hopelessly at all the information. "I'm not sure I can do this."

"I started my own business," Marley said. "If I can do it, you can, too."

"But you're a talented photographer," Nicole pointed out.

"And you're a talented designer. Seriously, Nicole"—Marley gestured to the sketchpad that had become Exhibit A—"why have you been hiding this? You draw all the time, but I didn't know you could draw like that. Why haven't you done this sooner?"

She shrugged, hugging herself. "I don't know, guys. What if I can't do it? What if I bomb? What if—"

"What if you never try, and you end up working in a little shop for the rest of your life?" Marley said bluntly.

"Not that there's anything wrong with working in a little shop," Valentine said quickly. "But you yourself said you wanted more. This is it."

"What if I'm not ready?" She picked up her teacup and then put it back down. Whoever decided chamomile had soothing qualities lied. "Just the thought of what it's going to take is making me hyperventilate."

Valentine pulled one of the sheets of paper lining the table surface forward. "That's why I broke out everything you need to do in stages. If you tick off each item on this list one at a time, in order, you'll be fine."

Nodding, she looked over the list. There was still time to run. She'd heard Guatemala was nice this time of year. "Maybe I should wait until I'm in a better place in life."

"Nicole, you can't wait, because ducks don't line up." Marley pursed her lips in thought. "Well, actually, they kind of do, which is where the expression came from, but you know what I'm saying."

She shook her head. "No, actually I don't."

Valentine slapped her hand on all the pages she'd compiled and leaned in like an enforcer, which should have been funny considering she looked like a pixie but only made her seem more menacing. "Just do it, Nicole."

Marley smirked. "Or Valentine will kick your butt."

"Okay." She took a deep breath. "Okay, I'll do it."

Valentine smiled happily. "Good."

The door burst open, slamming against the wall. Everyone in the café silenced for a moment as two teenagers rushed in.

Nicole frowned. "Rachel? Is school out for the day?"

"Barely. We ran all the way here to make it in time." The girl paused to breathe, still holding onto the hand of the boy next to her.

A cute boy. Nicole winked at Rachel.

The teenager blushed. "I know, right? Aaron's hot."

"You really do have a way with words," the boy said, looking at Rachel adoringly.

The girl gave him a brilliant smile before facing Nicole. "But that's not why I'm here. He emailed me! Griffin Chase!"

At Grif's name, she froze. Her heart did a series of crazy flops before beating really hard. But she wasn't surprised that he'd emailed the teenager. Griffin was a good man. He wouldn't just leave Rachel dangling, not when it obviously meant so much to her. "What did he say?" she managed.

"He told me to listen to the radio. He's doing an interview." Her eyes widened with disbelief and excitement. "He isn't going to...?"

"There's only one way to find out. When is his interview?"

"Now." Rachel bounced with impatience. "He told me to tell you to listen, too. He insisted, actually."

Hope caught in her chest, making it difficult to breathe. "Why would he want me to listen?"

Marley rolled her eyes. "Duh."

"We have to listen," Valentine declared. She looked around. "How do we listen?"

Nicole held her hands up. "The only time I listen to the radio is in my mom's car, when I'm home visiting."

"Eve," Marley exclaimed, jumping up and running to the counter. After a brief discussion with the owner, she yelled, "What station?" across the crowded room.

The room stilled again, which gave Rachel the perfect opportunity to yell the station back. "It's in Los Angeles," she added.

"No worries," Eve called out. "They all broadcast over the Internet. We'll get him on the speakers."

"What's going on?" another patron said in the expectant silence.

"True love," Valentine called back.

The guy at the table next to them nodded. "Can't argue with true love."

Nicole resisted the urge to lean over and give him a smacking kiss on his cheek.

"We're excited today to have Griffin Chase in our studios," a radio DJ enthused suddenly over the café speakers.

"Turn it up," a customer yelled from the back.

A murmur of consensus went through Grounds for Thought. Eve shrugged and cranked it.

"You've joined Captain Kirk, and my special guest, Griffin Chase. Griffin, it's a pleasure to have you here today."

"Thank you, Kirk," Grif said, his voice low and sexy.

But Nicole knew it was sexier in bed, in the middle of the night, when he was holding her and telling her his dreams. It was sexier in the morning, when he woke up and his eyes brightened as he said good morning to her, and it was even sexier when he beat her at Scrabble.

She missed him. She clutched her middle, listening avidly.

"Griffin, you're coming out with a new single called Here with You," the announcer said. "How would you feel about giving our audience a preview of the song?"

Grif chuckled. "I thought you might ask so I brought Tallulah."

"Tallulah?" the DJ and half Grounds for Thought asked at once.

"His guitar," Nicole said as Grif answered, "My guitar."

Marley wrinkled her nose. "He named his guitar? Isn't that weird?"

"Shh." Valentine gave her a prim, quelling look.

Over the airwaves, the entire café hushed as he tuned his guitar. He paused and then started singing softly.

With him streaming over the loudspeakers, it felt like he was in the same room with her. Nicole closed her eyes and let him serenade her. When he reached the chorus, he sang from his heart. "I'm here with you. Kiss me, take me, love me..."

A hand touched her arm.

Nicole opened her eyes to find Marley's face in hers. "He wrote that for you?" her friend asked incredulously.

She nodded unable to say anything.

The song ended and then Grif said, "This next one is special. It won't be on this album, but I thought I'd share it today. It's called A Song for Wendy."

Rachel gasped.

Nicole looked up to see joyful tears in the girl's eyes. She took Rachel's free hand and squeezed as Grif began to sing along with the beautiful, haunting music.



You moved away—

a new house

a new life perhaps more blurred than

the one you left behind.

Now you live beneath a roof of grass

screened in by your own name.

If I found your forwarding address could I contact you?

Could I express my rage that you left without warning?

If I touched the stone door of your home

would you feel my grief?



The last strains of the song trailed away like wisps of smoke, and the DJ's exuberant voice came back online. "Griffin, that was amazing. We're going to take callers in a second, but first maybe you'll answer a few questions. I've loved all your albums, but your first has always had a special place in my heart, and Here with You is reminiscent of it. Was that conscious?"

There was a pause, as though Grif was thinking. Then he said, "Actually, my first album was influenced by a friend. While I was pulling together this new album, also called Here with You, I spent some time with her, so it'd be reasonable to say that it'd have the same flavor."

"Is her name by any chance Wendy?" the DJ asked with a verbal leer.

"No, it's not," Grif replied sternly. "A Song for Wendy is a tribute to a woman who died before her time. The lyrics were written by Rachel Rosenbaum, her daughter."

"That's me!" Rachel shouted triumphantly.

The café broke out in applause and whistles. The teenager glowed happily, and Nicole squeezed her hand.

"Here with You," Grif continued, "was inspired by a dear friend. I've known her most of my life."

"A romantic interest?"

"She's always been my best friend," Grif answered calmly.

Marley threw her hands in the air. "What does that mean?"

"You have to find out, Nicole. You have to call and ask." Valentine began poking furiously at her phone. Then she held it out to Nicole. "Take it."

"What?" Nicole stared at it, confused. Valentine never gave up her phone. She had a relationship with it that defied reason.

Valentine just shooed her.

"It's not like they'll take my call," she said, letting go of Rachel's hand to take the phone. "Do you know how many people probably call in?"

"Let's take a question from you. Caller One, you're on the radio with Captain Kirk and Griffin Chase," Nicole heard, both over the speakers and in her ear.

What? Her mouth went dry and she gripped the phone.

"Caller One, are you there?"

"Hello?" she said tentatively.

An exclamation went through the entire café.

"Caller One, welcome to Rock Out with Captain Kirk. What's your name, honey?"

"Nicole."

"Nicole, do you have a question for Griffin Chase?" the DJ repeated.

She could hear the eye-roll in his voice, and it was enough to pull her together. "Yes, I do. Grif—Griffin, I was wondering about your inspiration for Here with You. What's your friend like?"

Without missing a beat, he said, "She's the loveliest person I've ever known, and I wish her all the happiness in the world."

"What if she doesn't want happiness?" she asked. "What if she wants you?"

Valentine smacked a hand on her forehead and shook her head.

"I mean," Nicole amended quickly, "what if you make her happy? What if she'd be miserable without you in her life?"

"Then I'd do everything in my power to make her happy for the rest of my life," he said without pause. "She deserves that and more. She deserves to be treasured and respected, and reminded how great and talented she is."

Nicole nodded. "Good to know. Thanks. And your new single is awesome."

She hung up.

The entire café roared in protest.

Nicole stood up and blew a kiss to the crowd and motioned to Eve to turn the radio off. "Thank you for the support, everyone," she said and then sat back down. She put a hand to her chest, afraid her heart was going to jump out.

Rachel was the first to speak. "You adults are crazy."

Yes, she was crazy, but sometimes you had to take a chance. Or two chances, she thought as she looked at the papers spread in front of her.





Nicole didn't hear from Grif all night. No phone call. No text. No email.

She opened Romantic Notions early the next morning, because she needed something to do instead of pacing in her apartment, wondering if he was serious about what he'd said.

Of course he was serious. She shook her head as she rearranged the sketches she'd lined up on the counter for the tenth time. Grif never said something he didn't mean. If he said he wanted to make her happy for the rest of his life, he meant it. When "forever" started was the thing in debate here.

Sighing in disgust—at herself—she focused on the designs. Valentine had found her a manufacturer. Once they found a backer, they could begin production. Finding a backer seemed like an impossible task, but Valentine had assured her it wouldn't take much.

It was overwhelming and scary. She could lose everything.

Except she had nothing to lose. She exhaled and studied her designs. Quickly, she weeded out the ones that didn't fit with the story she had in mind for her first season's line: true love.

The door chimed open.

She started to smile as she looked up, but it died on her lips when she saw who stood in the doorway.

Setting his guitar case next to the door, Grif took his cowboy hat off and crushed it in his hand. "I've been trying to get here since last night. I had a TV interview I was committed to, and it went late so I missed the last flight out. And then this morning my flight was cancelled and the one I was bumped to was delayed."

She swallowed thickly. "Maybe the universe was trying to keep you from coming here."

"No, the universe was testing me to see how badly I wanted this."

"You're here," she said carefully.

"I want this." In his voice, there was more rock-solid certainty than she'd ever heard from him, and that was saying something. He gazed at her steadily.

"I can't change who I am, Nic. This is what you get, so you've got to be sure you want it."

"I do. I want it. I want you."

He didn't make a move, as if he didn't believe her.

She'd make him believe her. She moved toward him. "You know how my parents always told me I could be anything and do anything I wanted? That I just had to find my passion?"

He nodded, putting his hands in his pocket.

"I was so scared I'd pick something as my passion and then find out I didn't love it. You were right, I bounced from thing to thing, always second-guessing myself. I was the same with men, because I was never sure any of them were the one I could give myself to forever."

"Forever is—"

"Unreasonable." She shrugged. "I know, but that's what I want. The man I pick is going to be forever, because I believe marriage isn't something you play with."

"Nicole," Grif said quietly, "I've loved you forever, and I'll keep loving you."

She walked up to him and put her arms around him. "Even when I'm old and wrinkly?"

"I can't wait till you're old and wrinkly, because it'll mean I've had that many years to kiss you." He traced her lips. "Your smile will always be mine."

"All of me is yours. I love you." She infused it with as much emotion as she could, knowing that there was no possible way to convey everything she felt for him. Except...

She reached around her neck, pulled the arrowhead over her head, and slipped it over his head. It settled over his heart. "Where it belongs," she said.

"Where you belong," he said, catching her up in his arms and kissing her.

All the longing from the time he'd been gone rose to the surface, an unstoppable tide that had her desperately grappling for more. She touched every part of him, over and under his clothes, and gasped as his hands greedily moved over her, too.

He picked her up by her haunches, and she gripped his waist with her thighs as he whirled them around and headed to the dressing room in the back.

"We can't do it here," she protested. Not that it stopped her from undoing his belt. "I want you in my bed."

Pushing her up against the mirror, he didn't stop kissing her as he spoke. "It was a challenge make it back here much less your bedroom. Next time."

She clawed his back, under his shirt. "As long as next time is soon."

"Have I mentioned that I love your little skirts?" His hand reached under her plaid skirt, pushing it up. "But you weren't very considerate wearing tights."

"A real man would do something about it."

He gripped her tights and ripped them from her. "Like that?"

A thrill of excitement raced through her. "You always know what I need."

"I do." He framed her face with his hand, looking directly in her eyes. "I always will, Nic."

And then he slowly pushed into her.

Her head fell back against the mirror. It was tight and wonderful. "I've missed you," she said again, fervently.

"Thank goodness you came to your senses." He grinned at her and then began to thrust back and forth into her, slow and deliberate, keeping her gaze the entire time.

She dug her heels into his haunches, arching herself into him. "I won't be a groupie."

"I don't want a groupie. I want the sweet, sassy girl I fell in love with when I was twelve."

Her heart melted, and she flung her arms around him. "She's yours."

"Forever," he said, and then he proved it.