If I Loved You (Harper Falls Book 1)
Read If I Loved You (Harper Falls Book 1) Online
Authors: Mary J. Williams
HARPER FALLS BOOK ONE
MARY J. WILLIAMS
Copyright © 2015 Mary J. Williams
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To Noan Brook Williams,
For all your love and support.
I couldn't have done it without you.
Thanks, Mom.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
PREVIEW OF IF TOMORROW NEVER COMES
IT WAS SOMETHING out of a fairy tale.
Thousands of flickering lights dazzled her
senses, almost as much as the tall, wickedly handsome man who so
expertly danced her onto the shadowed balcony. The music that
filtered from the nearby ballroom only added to the already magical
atmosphere.
Women dreamed their whole lives of a moment
like this— prelude to a happily ever after ending. Ever so briefly,
she let herself drift into that fantasy as if she was one of those
women. For a moment, she let herself pretend that her childhood had
been filled with the kind of whimsy that allowed those fantasies to
be carried over into adulthood.
But no, she wasn’t a romantic, hopeless or
otherwise. She didn’t want a prince to sweep her into his arms and
carry her away on his faithful steed. She was more than capable of
rescuing herself. And she preferred it that way.
The stars were in the sky, not in her
eyes.
“I’m glad you asked me to dance,” her
partner whispered, pulling her closer.
Suddenly she was nervous. The champagne she
had downed earlier had completely worn off. No more floating on a
cloud of false courage. If she was going to do this, she was going
to have to do it on her own.
“Jack,” she said. Damn, it was hard to sound
seductive when your voice squeaked. “Jack.” That was better, lower
and slightly husky. She’d read somewhere that guys liked husky
voices.
“Rose.”
“Yes?”
“Nothing, I just thought we were saying each
other’s names.” He put his lips next to her ear. “I like the way
you say mine.”
“Jack.” Good Lord, she had to stop repeating
his name. “I need a favor, Jack. A big one.” Or should she say, she
hoped he
had
a big one. Rose groaned
to herself. At least she hadn’t said that out loud.
“I’ll help if I can.”
“You’re the only one who
can
help.” She took another deep breath. “I need
you to take me home and screw my brains out.”
ONE
ONE WEEK EARLIER
“IT NEEDS TO be dirtier.”
“If I had a dollar for every time I heard
that I could retire.”
“If I recall, you made your many, many
dollars being very, very dirty.”
Rose laughed. She could just imagine how
that sentence would sound if someone heard it out of context. She
knew what Frank meant, and it still sounded much more salacious
than it really was.
“
Grind
is
sensual, not dirty,” she reminded her long-time friend and writing
partner.
At the moment, Frank Weller was over three
hundred miles away in his New York apartment. Modern technology
allowed them to work together without traveling or changing out of
their pajamas. Well, she was still in her P. J.s. It was impossible
for her to tell what Frank was wearing. For all she knew he was
naked, as his chest was bare. And Frank being Frank, he was in all
likelihood sitting around without any clothes on. Not that she was
complaining, it was a pretty spectacular chest. He might as well
show it off. But the point wasn’t to incite any sexual interest.
Frank loved to tease. It was just like him to appear to be naked,
hoping to get her to acknowledge his state of undress. They had
known each other too long for her not to be on to his tricks. Frank
provoked; Rose ignored. It was a dynamic that had worked to great
success both personally
and
professionally.
“
Grind
,” he
reminded her, “is raunchy and filthy, and
that’s
why it is wildly successful. Don’t try to
rewrite history at this late date.”
Rose considered mounting a token argument,
but she knew he was right.
Grind
was
a song that never should have seen the light of day. She’d
considered it the therapeutic equivalent of writing in a diary.
Fate and a persuasive producer had had other plans. And it had
turned out to be a multi-platinum, award-winning phenomenon. To
this day she was asked who or what had inspired her to write a song
that was so raw—so primal. In the early days of her career, Rose
had dated some very high profile singers and producers. Everyone
assumed one of them had to be the inspiration. Rose had become an
expert at evading the questions. She usually just shrugged and gave
what she hoped was a mysterious smile. Only her two best friends
knew the truth, and Rose meant to keep it that way
“The backstory or lack thereof, is part of
why that song has never fallen off of the Billboard charts. Two
years later and it’s still a huge seller.
“I’d
like
to
think it has something to do with it being a damn good song,” Rose
grumbled good-naturedly. She considered all her songs to be her
babies and, like any mother, she could be a bit defensive if she
thought they were being insulted.
“Absolutely,” Frank assured her. “But the
mystery never hurts.” He leaned closer to the screen. “Now, let’s
talk about getting you back to civilization. You’re too beautiful
to let yourself waste away in that backwoods oblivion.”
“Are you saying the backwoods are okay for
ugly people?”
“Yes,” Frank answered with his usual bald
honesty. “Oh, don’t give me that look. You are super model hot, not
that you ever take advantage of it. You could have any man you
wanted, but for some unfathomable reason you always pick fizzle
over sizzle.”
“I’m not going to have this discussion with
you for the umpteenth time, Frank.” Rose had her reasons for
avoiding high gloss, high maintenance men—reasons that were
nobody's business but her own. “And my living in Harper Falls has
nothing to do with my looks or who I date.”
“You’re right. I want you here in New York,
down the hall like you used to be because I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” she admitted, then added
slyly, “You could always move here.”
Frank’s eyes widened in horror. “The people
in that little town of yours wouldn’t know what to do with me. And
I can’t imagine what I would do with them.”
“You’d be surprised what goes on in Harper
Falls, Frank. Small town intrigue tops big city drama every
time.”
“You mean everyone knows their neighbor's
business.” Frank shuddered. “I don’t even know my neighbor's
name
. I certainly don’t need to know
what they’re getting up to behind closed doors. And I like it that
way.”
“That’s because you’re afraid they’ll start
asking what
you’re
getting up
to.”
“Damn, straight.” Frank wiggled his eyebrows
suggestively. “Or in the case of me and Len, not so straight.”
“Two hot guys? You could sell tickets.”
“Honey, it would be standing room only. But
I like to keep my man to myself. And I like the anonymity of the
big city.”
“Well, I like knowing my neighbors,” Rose
argued. She wasn’t about to admit how right Frank was about small
town grapevines. As annoying as it could be, it was also part of
the charm. Mostly.
“But are your neighbors worth knowing?
“Don’t be such a snob, Frank.”
A lot of the people she dealt with in the
music business tended to look down their noses at her small town
lifestyle. There was no point in arguing, so she ignored them. But
because Frank was a good friend
and
a colleague, she wanted him to understand that she didn’t find his
insults amusing.
“You’re right, love,” Frank said, genuinely
contrite. “Sometimes I can be a real pain in the ass. I appreciate
you calling me out on it.”
“I know you don’t mean any harm, Frank,”
Rose assured him. “But living here makes me happy. When the need
arises, I fly to New York or Los Angeles. But Harper Falls is my
home, it’s where I’m the most creative. That’s why I came back, and
that’s why I stay.”
“And I’m selfish enough to keep trying to
get you to move back to New York. It’s been two years. Haven’t you
gotten your yen for nature out of your system yet? And where do you
go when you want sushi at three in the morning?”
“Sushi is your thing, Frank. I like
scrambled eggs. And before you ask, in spite of my lack of culinary
skills, scrambled eggs I can make myself.” Sometimes they had the
texture of rubber, but she was getting better. “Besides, eating
anything at three o’clock in the morning is a bit out of favor
around here.”
“God, don’t tell me you’ve become Farmer
Rose, all early to bed and early to rise.”
Frank was so appalled at the thought that
Rose decided to cut him some slack. “I’ll admit I’m still more
likely to
stay
up for the sunrise
than
get
up for it. But clubbing and
all night parties are pretty rare.”
“Don’t you miss it?”
Rose shrugged. “I took advantage of the big
city perks when I was there. Now I’m happy with a quieter day
lifestyle. Besides,”
Rose had lived in New York after college.
Writing music was her passion, and she had been lucky enough to get
some early success. There were so many more people to meet and work
with, so many opportunities, that she thought staying there was her
best option. But when she started to grow tired of the constant
hustle and bustle, her thoughts turned to the first home she’d ever
known. Harper Falls was where she learned about friendship and the
stability that came with having people you could count on no matter
what. New York was fun and exciting—an endless party. Harper Falls
was more grounded; it provided her with a sense of community. As
for career opportunities? She found that other songwriters and
artists sought her out no matter where she lived. Talent and a
string of hit songs made her location a minor inconvenience.
“Sorry, Frank, I’m not changing my mind.
Besides,” she reminded him, “I’ll be in New York in a few weeks to
meet with Sam Laughton. I promise we’ll paint the town.”
“So you’re going to do the movie?”
Rose shrugged. “Nothing is settled yet.
Either way he wants to meet. It’s a lot of work under the best of
circumstances, but with the last songwriter not working out I'd be
rushed to finish on time. I don’t know if I’m up to it.”
“You are perfect for this project and Sam
Laughton knows it. That last hack should never have been hired.
Besides,” he added with a knowing look, “He has been trying to work
with you for years. Though it isn’t just your music he’s interested
in.”
“Not my type,” Rose dismissed the thought
with a wave of her hand.
