The Wedding March. Tara Randel

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ

      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 СКАЧАТЬ