Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 87091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Looking at the horizon, Crystal said, “Have you thought about writing a love song for Mila and Hersch? It would be perfect for their first dance.”
Damien kicked at a loose stone in the path, sending it skittering ahead. “A love song, huh?” he mused, his reluctance clear in his tone. “That’s not really my style, Crystal. You know I don’t write love songs.”
“Come on,” she pressed, nudging him gently with her elbow. “You wrote one for Archer and Tessa. Mila will expect a song.”
Crystal was right. What had he been thinking? Writing “Colors of Love” had happened naturally as he watched Archer and Tessa fall for each other, but he hadn’t counted on being expected to write a song for every sibling. He wasn’t a damned love song factory.
She didn’t mention that “Colors of Love” had become a huge hit, which he appreciated. He didn’t need his nose rubbed in it.
“Admit it, you’ve got a soft spot for romance.” Her tone was teasing, yet there was an undercurrent of certainty, a belief that she knew him better than anyone. Which was true.
As they walked, Damien found himself wrestling with the idea, his thoughts wandering to melodies and lyrics that might capture the essence of love. And somehow, every line he conjured felt as though it was meant for Crystal—her laughter, her grace, the way she moved through life with such purpose. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat, the internal realization hitting him like a chord struck too hard.
He wasn’t just considering a song for Mila and Hersch. Deep down, he knew that if he was going to write a romantic song, it would be for Crystal.
The realization sizzled through him like an electric current, and for some time he was silent, lost in the strange but not unpleasant sensation. Finally, he told her he’d think about it, but not to make any promises to Mila.
They walked on and again Damien inhaled deeply. “There’s something about this place that always pulls me back.”
Crystal glanced at him, her face glowing with exertion, a few strands of dark hair curling around her face. “It’s your roots. No matter where you go, Carmel—the beach, the valley, the hills—will always be home.”
He nodded, feeling the truth of her words settle around him. She was about to speak again when he noticed she was headed for a rocky ledge she clearly hadn’t seen.
“Watch the—” But before he could finish, her foot caught on an uneven stone, and she pitched forward with a small gasp.
In an instant, Damien’s arms were around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. Her body tensed, then relaxed as she realized she was safe. She turned around and their eyes met, and for the space of a heartbeat, the world seemed to pause—two friends tangled in a moment that felt far more intimate than either of them had anticipated.
“Thanks,” Crystal whispered, and he wondered if her flushed cheeks were from more than the exertion of the hike.
“Always,” Damien murmured, slowly releasing her but not stepping back right away. They stood close—too close—the sound of a nearby bird crooning to them.
As if sensing the need to break the tension, Crystal cleared her throat and smoothed out her shirt. “Well, trying to get back with a broken ankle would definitely have made this hike memorable.”
“Memorable, dangerous—same thing,” he joked. He took a step away, giving them both space to regain their composure.
They set off again, the charged moment ebbing away with each step, yet he couldn’t shake the sense of closeness it had brought. She felt so good in his arms. Too good. Had it simply been that he hadn’t had a girlfriend in a while?
No, that wasn’t it. These feelings were deep and intense. It was so much more than craving intimacy. It was craving Crystal.
He needed to get back to the easy friendship they’d enjoyed in high school, when he’d come home and find her and Erin doing homework at the kitchen table, his mom cooking dinner and supervising. They’d both been so smart. So studious.
“I was just thinking about how serious you were in high school,” Damien said after a while, his voice slicing through the quiet. “You wanted to be a doctor. Erin was always going to be a writer, but you were headed for medicine.”
Crystal chuckled, a lighthearted sound that didn’t match the sad expression in her eyes. “Yeah, Dr. Lopez, saving lives one patient at a time. That was the dream.”
Her smile was breezy, but behind it lay a shadow that Damien had learned to recognize—a dream deferred, tucked away but never forgotten.
“Is it still something you think about?” he prodded gently, watching her face for any sign of the passion she held for that unfulfilled ambition.
“Sometimes,” she admitted with a shrug, walking around a wildflower along the path. “But life has a way of reshaping dreams, doesn’t it? Look at us now—I’m orchestrating I do’s, and you’re composing romantic anthems.”