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    HeartStrings


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      HeartStrings (The Wilder Books #2)

      Savannah Kade

      This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents are either a product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or locales is entirely coincidental.

      * * *

      Published by Griffyn Ink

      www.griffynink.com

      Copyright © 2016 Griffyn Ink

      All rights reserved.

      * * *

      No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the publisher.

      * * *

      For ordering information or special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact Griffyn Ink at Mail@GriffynInk.com.

      Contents

      Join Savannah

      Also by Savannah Kade

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Chapter 17

      Chapter 18

      Chapter 19

      Chapter 20

      Chapter 21

      Chapter 22

      Chapter 23

      Chapter 24

      Chapter 25

      Chapter 26

      Chapter 27

      Chapter 28

      Chapter 29

      Chapter 30

      Chapter 31

      Chapter 32

      Chapter 33

      Chapter 34

      Chapter 35

      Chapter 36

      Chapter 37

      Chapter 38

      Chapter 39

      Chapter 40

      Chapter 41

      Chapter 42

      Chapter 43

      Afterword

      Preview of Love Notes (Wilder - Book 3)

      About the Author

      Never miss a sale or a free book! Keep up with Savannah HERE.

      Novels by Savannah Kade:

      The WILDER Books:

      Our Song

      Heartstrings

      Love Notes

      Music & Lyrics

      The Wilder Complete Book Set

      That Night in Nashville

      Georgia Grace

      The TOUCH OF MAGICK Series:

      WishCraft

      DreamWalker

      LoveSpelled

      SoulFire

      ShadowKiss

      The Touch of Magick Series: Complete Set

      The AGAINST ALL ODDS Series:

      Steal My Heart

      Call Me Yours

      Ask Me to Stay

      Promise Me Always

      Against All Odds Complete Set

      The BREATHLESS Series:

      Gifted

      Perfect

      Ruined

      Rebel

      Lucky

      Charmed

      Saved

      Dreamer

      The DARK FALLS Series

      Dark Falls - Lori Ryan

      Dark Secrets - Savannah Kade

      Dark Legacy - Trish McCallan

      Dark Nightmares - Becca Jameson

      Dark Terror - Sandra Owens

      Dark Burning - Lori Ryan

      Dark Echoes - Savannah Kade

      Dark Memories - Sandra Owens

      Dark Rage - Becca Jameson

      Dark Tidings - Trish McCallan

      Dark Obsession - Lisa-Marie Cabrelli

      Dark Passion - Lori Ryan

      For Victoria and Andrea, who opened arms and hearts and red pen caps for me.

      Chapter 1

      Every wedding had that point. The pictures were taken, the reception was over, even the bride and groom were gone. A bridesmaid's job was done. She'd had just enough fun and just enough champagne to find herself standing in the low surf and having big thoughts as the tide rolled in.

      Shay was drunk enough to make the effort to hold up the hem on the gown she'd spent painstaking hours on, and sober enough to understand it wasn't working.

      "You're going to ruin that dress." The voice came from behind her. From back on dry sand, it rolled over her, deep, masculine, and maybe a little concerned.

      "I'll just hem it. That's what you're supposed to do with a bridesmaid's dress anyway, right?" In fact, she'd designed it to be hemmed and worn again. Not that she believed any of the other four bridesmaids would do that. Even if she hemmed it, even if it were shorter, flirtier, less formal, she still wouldn't have anywhere to wear it. So she let go of the wad of taffeta in her clenched fist, allowing the beautiful gauzy fabric to swish with the waves at her feet.

      She was officially on vacation now.

      Ten minutes down. Two more days to go.

      "Are you okay to be standing in the waves? I'm afraid one might knock you over." Definitely concerned.

      She smiled and still didn't turn around. It was good this way. A man talking to her, worried about her well-being. It was probably only a clerk who didn't want her to get swept out to sea and create negative publicity for a hot Miami Beach hotel that had just hosted the wedding of country star Hailey Watkins. "Oh yes, I'm really good."

      The slightly off answer probably only proved that she wasn't all there. Oh well.

      "You want some company?" The voice was closer behind her now. He was already standing in the waves.

      Shay hoped for his sake he'd taken off his shoes. She knew what salt water did to clothes, shoes, more. "Sure. If you want."

      Then he was beside her, though she still didn't look. She just got a glimpse of a sleek suit, worn well, but she wasn't ready to give up the fantasy just yet. His hands went in his pockets. "That dress is amazing, but it doesn't do you justice."

      She laughed. "I'm not that drunk."

      She hadn't been that drunk in a long time, and she wouldn't ever be again. Truth be told, there had been a time when a man hadn't even needed to get her drunk. Just a compliment would do it. Anything she could latch onto and pretend.

      Not anymore.

      "Good." He chuckled. "But the dress is amazing."

      "Thank you. Are you saying that because you know I made it?" She turned and caught his surprise at that.

      Hailey had always been really good about talking up Shay and her skills, but never about making her seem like the help. Maybe because Hailey had been the help, too, once upon a time.

      They'd grown up next door, fed each other when pantries went empty, waited tables together, partied together, and then Hailey left, taking her guitar and heading to Nashville. When she made it, she'd done as much as she could for Shay. Having Shay as her maid of honor was a touching gesture. Shay's heart had warmed, knowing that Hailey really did still consider her a friend and equal.

      She couldn't say the same of the man beside her.

      Craig Hibbets. Bass and backup vocals for Wilder. Despite a few rocket-hot, smash singles off their first album, they hadn't faded away. Their new stuff was climbing the charts even faster.

      She gave a small smile, glad the fantasy held up. Craig Hibbets was a pleasure to look at.

      She knew him intimately. The breadth of his shoulders. The length of his leg. The taper of his waist. The distance from elbow to fingertip. Where his tattoos were. He didn't know her at all.

      Shay blinked. She'd made the tie he was wearing. Hailey had requested them as presents for the guys for Christmas. When she'd first been signed, her friend had shared a tour with Wilder, alternating tour dates and allowing each music group occasional
    breaks. They'd become friends, working under the same label.

      Hailey had given her handler at the label Shay's name for costuming. The handler had given it to other groups. It kept Shay employed. For that she was grateful. But the tie was also a reminder of the distance between them.

      "Did you make all the bridesmaids' dresses?" He asked, still not realizing who she was. That some of the things he'd worn on stage were things she'd sewed for him.

      "Yes."

      Shay didn't offer more. It was nice having a stunningly good-looking man standing next to her, while warm water licked at her feet and the hem of the nicest dress she'd ever owned. But she didn't want him to talk, didn't want him to ruin it with reality.

      He waited a moment, looking at the last of the light on the water as the sun set behind them. Then he spoke again. "You were pretty busy back there. Did you get anything to eat?"

      "Sure. About an hour ago." She smiled as she turned and felt the world tip a little. "What time is it?"

      "Almost eight."

      "Shit." She regretted the word as soon as it flew out of her mouth. "I had probably one of the appetizers?"

      "That was not an hour ago." He grinned, his eyes lighting up. "Let's get you some food."

      She shook her head to protest right as a wave hit her shins. The water had gotten higher while she'd watched the ocean. That wasn't as much of a problem as the fact that the whole lower third of her gown was soaked and wafting with the tide, pushing her to land then pulling her out to sea.

      She stumbled, grabbing onto his arm as he caught her. So when she righted herself and stood on her own, Shay agreed. "Okay. I do need food."

      He took her hand firmly, probably just to keep her upright and they began the slow trudge of getting her gown out of the water. Finally on dry sand, he leaned over and picked up both their pairs of shoes, not handing her the sandals that were so gorgeous she'd never have a place to wear them again either.

      "I'm good."

      He didn't let go. "Let's get something to eat." He gestured to the restaurant tables on the patio looking out over the ocean.

      Shay could not afford to eat there or anywhere near the posh hotel. But Hailey had booked the room for her as long as she wanted. Covered all the bills, including anything she charged to the room. Even encouraged her to get her sister to babysit so she could stay a few extra days and have a real vacation while Hailey and Adam went off on their honeymoon. Still, Shay refused.

      "I have to change. I have sand on my feet. My dress is wet."

      He shook his head. "It's a beach-front hotel. You’re supposed have sand on your feet when you eat on the terrace. You look stunning. Join me."

      He didn't let go of her hand.

      "Okay." It was a small concession. One she hadn't made in a very long time.

      Shay didn't know if the hostess recognized him, but they were seated quickly at the railing, putting each of them parallel to the beach. The light had disappeared, and though the night was warm, her dress made her chilly.

      At the first sign of a shiver, Craig peeled his suit jacket and draped it around her shoulders. She was pulling it up when the server came by, offering wine.

      "Maybe just water for us." Craig said, then had her choose appetizers.

      "I'm not a lush." She commented. Who was he to order for her?

      "You didn't eat." He shrugged. "You can order what you want. You want a glass of wine, a margarita, get it." He grinned at her, redeeming an action that had seemed heavy-handed. "But I want to ask you something later, and I'll only ask if you're sober."

      "What is that?" She frowned at him.

      "Not until later." He became evasive, hiding behind the water glass as it was filled.

      He asked her how she knew Hailey, and she explained that the two had grown up together. She didn't tell that their 'houses' had been trailers. Or that Hailey had finally saved enough to get out of town. She answered as evasively as he did, then turned the tables and asked him about Wilder, about touring, about playing on stage.

      "You recognized me?" He tipped his head.

      Of course she did. She had a file on each of the four guys. Measurements, favorite color, fabric preferences. She didn't say it, just let him talk about what it was like to become a star. Shay compared it to Hailey's story, finding some similarities, some differences.

      They ate appetizers while he talked. Then they dug into beautifully plated entrees that couldn't have been enough food for him.

      Shay commented.

      "I ate at the wedding. You didn't. I'm good." He cleaned the plate with gusto, a second dinner not beyond him.

      When she finally sat back, sated, she sighed. On the tail end of her breath came his question.

      "Do you want to come up to my room with me?"

      Startled, she looked at him.

      Craig held the glass of water casually, his big hand drawing her attention. He looked at her through surfer-blond hair that kept creeping over his eyes.

      "Was that your 'later' question?"

      He nodded, but didn't ask again.

      She was completely sober now. She'd heard him.

      He waited for nearly a full minute, then asked a follow-up. "Is it that hard to answer?"

      She laughed. He wasn't mean or pushy about it. He seemed sincerely interested in having her up to his room. Instead of yes or no she tested the waters.

      "You just looking to snag a bridesmaid?"

      Despite the catch in her voice, he managed to keep the mood light with a charming grin. "Nope. There were other bridesmaids and single guests that would have been easier to catch."

      That was true. The champagne had flowed, the bar had been open, and after the bouquet had been thrown more than one single lady had tried hard to not be single for the night. Shay had not been one of them.

      She really hadn't considered this. "And tomorrow?"

      "We each fly home. You go your way, I go mine." He was open about it at least. Not leading her on.

      They'd only had a few hours together. Could she trust him?

      He seemed to catch on and held his arms out to his side openly. "Ask me anything."

      She didn't. "Yes. Let's."

      Chapter 2

      Shay's heart hammered even as he signed for the bill, a sweet grin settling on those lips. Now she looked at his mouth again, wondering how it would feel on her. Now it looked sinful.

      He stood, picking up shoes again, holding out his hand to her. His fingers were rough, the fingertips calloused. Something in her shivered. She had never done this before. She was an adult, she was single, and she needed this.

      Sure she'd had one night stands before, but she'd never intended them to be. Before, she always believed she'd found the one, the right guy, the man she needed. They usually walked out the next morning leaving her wondering how she could have been so wrong again. The ones who stayed were worse.

      This was the first time she'd gone in with eyes wide open.

      She hadn't been with anyone in so long she almost couldn't remember. Her sister had even commented about it last week, encouraging Shay to have a fling at the beach despite protests that she'd given all that up a long time ago.

      Here was Craig Hibbets, offering his hand and reaching for his hotel room key. Even as she wondered if she was just doing a boy from the band, she followed him down the lushly carpeted hallway, her bare feet leaving faint sand prints right next to his.

      She thought there was something poetic about that. About the fact that they moved just fast enough for the now dried dress to billow behind her a bit. Exactly as she'd designed it: airy, slightly sinful, romantic.

      As the elevator doors closed, she could feel herself leaning toward him in anticipation, but he stood still and held her hand. The doors dinged and his fingers squeezed hers.

      Though the car stopped once, no one got on. Still, he didn't make a move.

      Finally, he offered one word. "Cameras."

      It hit her like a ton of bricks. She was about to go into the hotel room and spend the night with a
    bona fide star. She wouldn't wind up on any tabloids, would she? Surely not. Surely Craig Hibbets had his share of trysts and no one cared.

      Her heart hammered a little harder at the thought, her breath catching again, making her wonder how many times it could do that. When he turned and smiled at her, she realized there probably wasn't a limit to his capabilities to make her breath catch.

      Craig's mouth opened to speak, then closed, then opened again as he decided what to do. "I've been dying to do this since I saw you."

      He didn't kiss her—cameras—but he reached up into her hair and began pulling the pins on the beautiful updo. Piece by piece, the soft, sweet curls the stylist had given her fell around her shoulders. Shay closed her eyes as his talented fingers found her scalp, gently searching for more pins.

      At the ding of the door she looked up at him, surprised when he reached down and picked up the shoes he'd dropped. He left a scattering of bobby pins on the elevator floor—as telling as the footprints in the lobby.

      He slid the key into the lock and led her into a suite identical to hers. As he closed the door behind them, she looked out the window. "I think I'm in this same room two floors up."

      A slow smile crept across his face as he let the shoes slide from his fingertips and took her hand in his again. "Do you want to look at the city lights?"

     


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