A Valentine for Kayla (13 page)

Tom dragged a chair over and sat. “Not my business, but you seem bothered. What's going on? I've seen Pastor Miller create the Sunday song list enough to know something is causing you not to have finished yet.” He glanced at his watch. “You've been in here for over an hour. You had this list whipped out in no time last week.”

He studied Tom. The man was probably old enough to be his dad, and his kind eyes made Derek want to trust him. “I know, and you're right. It's Kayla.”

Tom nodded. “Kayla Russell?”

“Yeah. I'm crazy about her, and I can't get her out of my head, which I need to do because she wants nothing to do with me. At least romantically.”

“How do you know? From what I hear, the two of you spend a lot of time together.”

“We see each other because of the parade float I'm helping build, but she's very clearly not interested in me the same way I am in her.” Maybe he'd be better off moving back to Los Angeles, where there were plenty of women to distract him from pining over Kayla. He tossed the horrible thought away. That life wasn't for him.

Tom frowned. “That's too bad. I think you'd be good together. I've known Kayla most of her life and music is a big part of who she is. I figured that's why the two of you connected so well. Did you know she was runner-up in the Miss Oregon Teen pageant?”

Derek jerked his head in Tom's direction. “No way! I mean, she's beautiful and all, but I never pegged her for a pageant kind of girl.”

“She's not. Someone nominated her, and her mom forced her to participate. As it turned out, she was a natural.” He shook his head. “Unfortunately, my daughter dreamed of being Miss Oregon Teen and was so jealous of Kayla's success she shared a secret with me that she probably shouldn't have.” He lowered his voice. “But it's one you might like to know, too. Has she told you about her list?”

“Uh…I don't think so.” Something told him whatever Tom was talking about was significant. He set his guitar on the stand beside him, plopped down on the carpeted stage, stretched out his legs and leaned back on his elbows. “I'd like to hear about it.”

“The only reason I know is my daughter and Kayla were good friends when they were younger. But like I said, in a moment of blind jealousy Lisa ranted about how perfect Kayla was and that she hoped she'd never find a guy that met all the traits on her husband list.”

“Excuse me?”

Tom nodded. “I've always wondered about that list. Especially since she's still single. It must be quite a catalog of requirements.” He stood. “I should probably practice what the pastor preaches and stop gossiping.”

“Before you go, I'm curious about something. What was her talent in the pageant?”

“Singing.” Tom left the stage the same way he'd arrived and disappeared behind the paneled door.

Kayla sang? He thought back to their first and only real date and recalled her saying she could carry a tune. It was interesting that she'd held back that information even though she hadn't known his full identity at the time. Did she still sing?

The door to the sanctuary opened, and a harried woman burst in. “Oh, good, I'm glad you're still here. The lady downstairs said she thought you might have left.”

Derek got to his feet. “May I help you with something?” He walked down the steps.

“My name is Margie. I'm the coordinator of the Spring Festival, and I am hoping you can help me with a problem.” The lanky woman strode to the edge of the stage and stopped. Her straight brown hair was pulled into a ponytail, and she looked as if she'd come from the gym.

“Shoot.”

“I'd booked a local band for the festival, and I just heard the band broke up and now they are canceling all their appearances.”

“That's rough. Don't they have a contract you can hold them to?” He hoped she wasn't here for the reason he suspected.

“I wish, but they've been our headliner for several years, and it's never seemed necessary. I'm at my wit's end. We have to have a concert to close out the festival. It's always a huge draw, and we've already sold half of the tickets.”

He'd seen this kind of thing happen before, but not often. “Do you have a backup plan? Is there another local group you could contact?”

“Kind of. I was hoping you'd agree to perform.”

Exactly what he feared. “I, umm…” He snapped his mouth closed. The last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to himself and bring the paparazzi back to town. He opened his mouth again to say no, but yes came out instead.

“Thank you!” She beamed a smile and thrust a sheet of paper at him.

“What's this?”

“A contract.” Her voice came out small and somewhat apologetic. “I don't want a repeat of what happened.”

“I'll look it over and get it back to you.”

“Great.” She handed him a business card. “Give me a call, and I'll stop in to pick it up.” She whirled around, then speed-walked to the exit at the back of the sanctuary.

Maybe he should make a space in his mother's barn to work. He might get something accomplished with fewer interruptions. Wait until he told Kayla about this. He studied the standard and straightforward contract, then signed it and set it aside. He looked at his guitar resting in its stand, and an idea struck him that might convince Kayla to give them a second chance.

* * *

The bells on the doors at Flowers and More jangled and drew Kayla's attention.

Margie breezed in wearing a huge smile. “Girl, your man is simply wonderful. Do you know what he did?”

“No.” It would do no good to correct her assumption that Derek was her man. It seemed half the town thought that.

“The band I booked for the festival broke up and canceled on us, which stinks, but it's all good because DJ Parker is stepping in. Can you believe it? We have a huge celebrity singing in our town.” Margie's face beamed. “I've heard people refer to him as Derek. What does he go by?”

“Derek Wood is his real name. But you should put DJ Parker on the tickets and advertisements.”

“You're right. I have a lot of work to redo.” She whirled around. “Give your man a big hug from me, will you?”

Kayla lifted a hand to wave, but Margie was already out the door. “Oh my goodness. What was Derek thinking?” Her stomach knotted. He'd said he wasn't returning to his singing career, but it looked as if he couldn't leave it behind after all. What was next? Would Estelle be able to convince him to go back to LA now that he was singing again?

“I thought I heard Margie.” Jill sidled up to her and looked from side to side. “Where'd she go?”

“Gone. She is beyond excited by the new headliner for the festival concert.” Unease settled over Kayla. She needed to see Derek.

“But I already bought tickets to hear Gracie and the Band. I love them.”

“Sorry to be the one to break the news to you, but the band broke up.”

“What? No more Gracie and the Band?” She sighed. “Who is performing instead?”

“One guess.”

Jill bit her bottom lip. Then a moment later her face lit. “Derek?”

Kayla nodded. “You're lucky you have a ticket. I probably should get one before they're sold out. As soon as the word gets out, they'll go fast.”

Jill grabbed the phone.

“Who are you calling?”

“The chamber of commerce. I want more tickets. I'll get you one, too.”

Kayla shook her head and walked away. What was it about celebrities that caused people to act out of character? She busied herself with putting merchandise that customers had placed in the wrong spots back where it belonged. If she were honest with herself, she'd admit that having Derek sing at the festival thrilled her as much as it did Margie and Jill, but it scared her, too. She didn't want to lose her friendship with him when he realized he wanted his old life back.

“Jill, would you mind watching the shop for a bit?”

“Nope. I'm all caught up with everything, and the workroom sparkles.”

“Thanks.” She slipped off her apron, grabbed her purse and headed to her car. She could walk, but she didn't want to be gone long. A couple of minutes later she pulled into the church parking lot. Good, Derek's truck was still here. Since he didn't have an office, she headed for the sanctuary.

The doors were closed, but guitar music filtered through. A sweet melody she didn't recognize warmed her to her toes. She closed her eyes and listened. The melody stopped and silence wrapped around her. She pulled the door open and spotted him sitting on the stairs to the platform writing something down. “That was nice. Is it for Sunday?”

His head whipped up. “No. It's something new I'm working on.”

“You mean you wrote it?”

He nodded. “I'm in the zone. Can I call you later?”

Her stomach tensed. She never should have bothered him at work. “Of course. I'm sorry for interrupting.” She shot him a forced smile. “Back to creating.” Stepping out, she let the door close, then leaned against it. Her heart beat an uneven tempo. The man had an unhealthy effect on her. She couldn't help but wonder what kind of husband Derek would be. Would he dedicate himself to his wife, or would music always be his first love? She slunk from the building renewing her stance to keep him at arm's length—he was a friend, and she had no business getting her feelings hurt because he was too busy to talk with her.

The pep talk did little to ease the knot in her stomach. She unlocked her car and slid inside. The door to the church opened and Derek bolted out.

“Kayla, wait!” He jogged over to her car.

A tingle zipped up her body. She lowered the window.

“I wanted to explain.”

“No need. I understand you're busy.”

“Not too busy for a quick visit. I'm sorry for blowing you off.” He ran his hands up and down his bare arms.

Kayla unlocked the doors. “Hop in.” The temperature had dropped to the upper fifties and a slight breeze put a nip in the air.

He strode around the front of her car and slid in beside her. “I'm filling in for the headliner band at the festival, and I don't want to sing my old stuff. I was working on a new song.”

“Wow. Now I'm doubly impressed. Anything I can do to help?” As if he would need
her
help. She had no skill when it came to writing music.

“Could you sing backup? A little birdie told me you were once quite a singer.” He raised a brow. “By the way, I can't believe you never mentioned that.”

Her cheeks flushed. “It's not something I generally share.” She chuckled, then sobered. “It's nice of you to ask me to sing with you. I'm flattered, but you haven't even heard my voice. What if you hate it?”

“Impossible,” he said softly.

The tender look in his eyes sent chills through her. “I don't know. I'm more of a shower singer now.”

He looked down at his lap and quirked his head to the side. “That's too bad. I'm kind of boring all by myself.”

She laughed. “I doubt that very much.”

“Please give it some thought.”

Pastor Miller strolled past her car and waved.

Kayla waved back. “Will you get in trouble for being out here with me?”

“Naw.” He opened the door. “But I should head in and finish that song list for Sunday.”

“Okay.” She sucked in her bottom lip and watched him jog to the door. Could she really do what Derek wanted? She'd secretly dreamed of being a backup singer when she was younger. This could be her one and only chance.

L
ate Friday afternoon Derek powered on the space heater he'd brought into the barn, then stood back to admire his work.

Though the room was utilitarian, it would make a sufficient recording studio thanks to acoustic panels and soundproofing.

He'd come to the conclusion that working as a worship pastor was great, but he needed more and that more was going to be composing. He'd always performed his own stuff, and for the most part his songs had been hits. Why couldn't he write for other singers? When it came down to it, music was his passion, and he couldn't completely abandon the industry.

He now had the perfect writing environment. Granted, he might eventually move out of his mom's guest cottage and find his own place, but she wasn't going anywhere. He could always come here to work and be nearby if she had any problems. Best of all, he'd made progress on the song he was writing for Kayla. He glanced at the cover sheet on the music stand. The top song, “Valentine's Day 3-6-5.” Kayla's dislike of the holiday inspired the song, and he hoped it would bring a smile to her face. The melody was complete and the first verse finished. Now to write the chorus.

He sat on a tall black stool in the center of the room, strumming his Gibson and running the lyrics through his head. Twenty minutes later he had the second verse and chorus. He couldn't help imagining the shock on her face when she heard this song that was clearly for her and no one else.

Satisfied with the end result, he pulled out the list of worship songs he'd compiled for this Sunday and practiced until a knock sounded on the door. He glanced out the window and saw Kayla's car. He'd been in the zone and hadn't noticed anyone driving up.

“Just a minute,” he called, and quickly hid the lyrics for her song behind the worship list. “Come in.”

The door opened, and he jumped up. Kayla stood at the threshold. Her hair cascaded in soft waves to her shoulders, and her eyes gleamed mischief.

“What's going on?” He walked toward her.

She held up her hand, palm facing him. “Stay. I'll be right back.”

What was the girl up to?

A moment later she strode in carrying a keyboard. “Where should I put this?”

“Uh, I have a keyboard.” He pointed to the instrument beside the soundboard.