That Girl's the One I Love

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Authors: Alana Lorens
Tags: Romance, Contemporary
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she’d just ignored any alarms and thrown herself into it. They had moved away not long after. It could have happened like he said…
    “That Christmas, I sat there, alone, thinking about getting on yet another plane and going home, where I’d be alone, too.”
    She started to protest, but he held up a hand. “Oh, I know, people think the rocking life is a party all the time, housefuls of people, music blasting, all that. And it can be. People who like that kind of thing can have it rolling twenty-four/seven. But that’s not me. On the road, there are always too many people, too many cities, lights, noises, and I can’t wait to get home. I’ve got a little studio there, where I can play around, make music. Like I said, it’s a working farm. Everything is natural, quiet, breezy. It’s home.” He was quiet a long time as the limousine drove on.
    She glanced out the window, saw the driver had taken them onto the interstate. Probably the easiest place to get around this time of night. So much to say, but she didn’t know what would be right. Maybe best to charge straight on. “I always wondered… I mean, you see the gossip magazines, and they say that people make all these fabulous hookups, you know. I loved that picture of you and Cynda Jones, for instance.”
    He looked up sharply. “Cynda?” His eyes narrowed a moment. “When did I see Cynda?” After a moment’s thought, he slapped his knee. “Oh! That.” He started to laugh, a full, round, amused laugh this time. “Yeah. We’d both gone to the music awards. I was rumored to be ahead in the polling, and her publicist wanted to kick her up in the ranks, so she dragged Cynda over and persuaded us to ‘look like a couple.’ All the cameras went off. I thought I was going to be blind for a month.”
    “So you weren’t a couple?”
    “Oh, heck, no. I mean, she’s okay. Drinks too much, in my book. I think she did go on to win the next year.” He shrugged. “But the only girl who waits at home for me is Ginger.” When Leyla didn’t respond, he added, “The cocker spaniel.”
    “Oh, I saw her picture on your page. She’s great.”
    “She’s yours. I mean, I got her for you. I remember how you said you’d always wanted one.”
    That raised her eyebrows.
    “Anyway, back to that Christmas. I realized then I wanted someone at home, someone I wanted to see at the end of the day. Someone I wanted to share everything with. And, Leyla, I realized I wanted that person to be you. I made the worst mistake of my life by not following up with you immediately after we’d gotten settled in California. I should have sent you a ticket, I should have called every night… I should never have let you think you weren’t the best thing that ever happened to me.”
    He looked at her with such earnestness, her eyes burned with tears.
    “I know we didn’t spend a long time together, but that night when we loved and talked and held each other— I have never felt as safe and secure in my whole life as in those twelve hours. We connected , Leyla. It’s a deep connection, and for me, it’s never broken.”
    He took a deep, shuddering breath, then stared at the floor.
    “I got the dog shortly after that, praying she was the first step back to you. It’s like that book, you know, the one that says if you visualize your goals and start acting like they’re coming to you, then you can attract them?” He started to reach for her hand but then pulled back. “I knew nothing about your life. When I played in Asheville, no one I talked to knew where you’d gone, none of the managers at the clubs, or in your neighborhood. So I was lost.”
    Leyla’s jaw worked, as if she would say something, but in this flood of emotion, she was lost, too. She didn’t know what to interject, or even if she should. It didn’t feel as if Arran had finished. She didn’t want to misjudge what he was going to say; anticipation could kill everything. But it sounded like…
    For all those

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