Right Where We Belong (Silver Springs #4)(52)

Stifling a frustrated groan, Gavin pretended not to hear her, and eventually she fell asleep. At least, he assumed she did. The next thing he knew the sun was peering through the blinds, and she was up and rushing to get home so she could shower and dress before she had to be at school to teach her fifth graders.

*

Gavin breathed a sigh of relief when Heather left with only a quick hug for him. Thank God she’d been in too much of a hurry to demand they talk—or suggest they do anything else. After last night, he realized how badly he needed some time to acclimate to the decision he’d made and to file away the feelings he had for Savanna. He thought it would be nice to let things calm down with Scott, too, before he and Heather were seen all over town together. They had months before the baby was born; he didn’t see any reason they had to move fast.

He made a pot of coffee and a plate of fried eggs. Then he called his mother to let her know he wouldn’t be in until noon and carried his guitar out on the porch. He wasn’t quite finished with what he’d been writing recently, but lyrics for another song were beginning to take shape in his mind. He closed his eyes as he pictured Savanna smiling at him just after having removed her blouse and tried to capture the promise of that smile and the way it’d made everything inside him go a little crazy.

Two hours disappeared in what felt like two minutes, but he had a new song written by the time Branson and Alia came running down the road with Savanna walking more slowly behind them.

“Ready to go to the park?” Gavin called out.

“My mom gave me money to buy bread.” Branson waved a few bills in his hand. “She said we might be able to feed the ducks!”

Gavin set his guitar aside. “You will be able to feed them. And I’ve already got a loaf of bread that’s too stale to eat, so we’re all set.”

“Do they bite?” Alia, breathless from trying to keep up with her brother, sounded much less excited by the idea.

“Some of the geese can be a little aggressive if you rush them, but the ducks are usually tame.” He winked at her. “Anyway, you have nothing to worry about because I’ll be there to make sure nothing happens to you.”

She gave him a sweet smile. “I like your hair,” she said. “I wish mine was that long.”

He laughed. If he was getting such envious compliments from little girls, he obviously needed an edgier look.

He shaded his eyes so that he could see Savanna despite the glare of the sun. She was wearing a pair of jeans with a T-shirt that made the most of her beautiful figure, but she looked tired and stressed as she approached. “How’d you sleep?” he asked.

“Not well,” she replied. “Mostly tossed and turned. You?”

“I managed to do a little better than that.”

“Good. I, uh—” she went slightly red in the face “—kept you pretty busy night before last, so I’m sure you needed the rest.”

“I didn’t mind losing sleep.”

She flashed him a self-conscious grin. “Thanks for saying that. I came on so strong I’ve been afraid that maybe it was...too strong.”

“No. You did nothing wrong, nothing I didn’t like.”

When their eyes met and held, he wondered what it was about this woman. She got to him on such a gut level. He couldn’t help letting his gaze slide down to her mouth. He wanted to taste her again... “You could’ve used a good night’s sleep yourself,” he said.

“Tonight will be better, providing I get that call I’m expecting.”

“What call?” Branson wrinkled his nose as he looked up at his mother.

“I’m dealing with some of the contractors who will be fixing our house this morning, remember?” she said, letting Gavin know that they weren’t aware she might be speaking to their father.

Gavin tried to draw Branson’s and Alia’s attention. “Have you ever seen a guitar up close?”

“No.” Branson crouched down to get a better look. “Can you play it?”

“I can,” Gavin told him. “I play it all the time.”

“Will you play it for us?”

Before he could answer, Alia added, “And sing for us, too?”

“Sure.” Gavin slung his guitar over his shoulder. “What would you like to hear?”

They looked to their mother to answer for them. “I’m not sure what type of songs you do,” Savanna said.

“I play folk rock, blues, soul, even a little pop rock.”

“Is there a song you’ve been doing a lot lately?”

“I’ll play one that’s been going over pretty well at my shows. It’s the only true country song I do, but I’ve thrown it into my set because some of the bars I play are out in farming communities, and they typically like country music.”

“Sounds good to me.”

He sang Keith Urban’s “Blue Ain’t Your Color” but, considering the lyrics, decided afterward that it probably wasn’t the wisest choice. By the time he finished, he and Savanna were staring at each other with such naked longing he felt transfixed.

“You sing good!” Alia piped up, shattering the moment and reminding him that they weren’t alone.

He cleared his throat as he put down his guitar. “Thanks. I plan on moving to Nashville soon.”