Hold on to My Heart (Maine Sullivans)
“What are you doing in Bar Harbor? I thought you were going to record a new album after your tour.”
“I was, but it wasn’t working out. Which is why I’m here to see a guy about buying a van instead.”
Of everything she’d thought he might say, this was nowhere on the list. She couldn’t make sense of it.
“You’re here to buy a van?”
“Can you spare a few minutes to talk in private so I can do a better job of explaining?”
She turned to let Annie know. “I’m going to take an early lunch, okay?”
Annie nodded, still looking stunned by seeing Ashley kiss Nash. Tongues were going to be wagging all over town, if they weren’t already.
She supposed it wouldn’t do her nonexistent street cred too much harm to be caught kissing a beloved superstar like Nash. Although she didn’t want to be the center of local gossip for any longer than strictly necessary, especially if it might negatively affect Kevin. “It’s probably best if we go back to my place. Anywhere else, there’s a chance you might be mobbed, since I can pretty much guarantee word is already out that you’re in Bar Harbor.”
“Your place sounds good to me.”
They headed outside into a perfect Maine day. The sky was clear. Everything was in bloom. And the air smelled like sea and sand.
She took a deep breath to try to steady herself. But it was impossible to feel even slightly steady after those kisses.
Kissing Nash was one of the very best things in the entire world. Making love with him was also on the list, of course, but just kissing him? Mmmm. It was wonderful.
She wanted to do it again and again and again. But she couldn’t. While the devil on her shoulder had sent her into Nash’s arms—and she had loved every single second of it—she couldn’t keep blaming kissing him on crazy impulses or further retaliation against her ex. Even the few kisses they’d just shared had muddied the waters. More kisses would only complicate things further.
“I don’t live far from here, only a couple of blocks. Hopefully, we can make it to my house without pandemonium striking.”
He grinned at her. “I have a newfound appreciation for pandemonium. It brought you into my life.” His eyes were full of such warmth. Warmth that seemed to be about more than desire. “I had a great time with you in Vienna, Ash. Really great.”
She’d never felt like this with anyone else, simultaneously wanting to jump his bones, while also feeling safe and comforted.
“I had a really good time with you too,” she told him. “Although I’m stunned that you’re here. I didn’t think I’d see you again.”
He held her gaze for a moment before saying softly, “I didn’t think so either.”
Her heart was racing by the time they turned from the main street onto her street of neighborhood homes.
“Bar Harbor is beautiful,” he said, temporarily moving on to safer subjects. “It seems so peaceful.”
“It will only seem that way as long as you stay in hiding,” she joked.
But he didn’t seem to think it was any laughing matter. “You don’t think I could keep a low profile in town for a while? No one rushed up to me in the café and asked for an autograph,” he pointed out. “Except for your ex.”
“Actually, people in Bar Harbor are pretty great about giving celebrities space. Maybe it’s because my cousin Smith has been here several times over the years for family gatherings, and he and his wife, Valentina, also honeymooned here.” His question about keeping a low profile in Bar Harbor only made her more curious about why he was here. “You said you were here about a van. Are you thinking of staying in town longer than it would take to buy it?”
She tried not to let her heart race at the thought of seeing more of him. Especially when she knew nothing could come of it other than losing more of her heart to him, meaning she’d feel more crushed when he said good-bye again and hit the road.
“When we talked in Vienna,” he explained, “I remembered how great it felt to build that van when I was sixteen. It felt like I was finally taking control of my life and paving a path for my future. In the past several weeks, I learned about something called Van Life. Have you heard of it?”
She nodded. “I’ve seen pictures online of people who sell everything to live and travel in a converted van or a school bus. Some of the vehicles look pretty luxurious.”
“The designs people have come up with, and the innovations, are incredible,” he said enthusiastically. “A million miles past my simple build as a teenager.” He was talking with his hands now, the way he had in Vienna when he’d been excited about his subject. “I could hire someone to build out a van for me. And I already live in a tour bus half the time. But the idea of building my own custom-designed van to take out wherever I want to go—into the woods, or to a lake, or to explore Route 66—and doing it with my own hands? It’s what got me to the end of my tour. I looked online for a van for weeks. Not something new and flashy, but the same model I had as a kid. A VW van with a pop-up top. Turns out they’re hard to come by, probably because van life is so popular right now. But I got lucky a few days ago, and one finally popped up online. Here. In Bar Harbor.”